Unconditionally
by Kadi219
Summary: Raydor/Flynn - In relationships, you have to be willing to accept the bad, with the good.
1. Chapter 1

Unconditionally

by Kadi

Rated: M

Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but I do promise to return them in the same condition I found them in… more or less.

A/N: Thank you all. Your comments have been wonderful, and so appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

_All the art of living lies in a fine_

_mingling of letting go and holding on._

_—Henry Ellis_

"Air 19, responding to location of MVA in the 7000 block of Templeton Street and Saturn Avenue," the pilot radioed his current location back to Central. His copilot was busy studying the ground below as they circled the scene. "Be advised, rescue vehicles and patrol are on site. We have three vehicles, and extrication is underway."

"Acknowledged Air 19. Extrication is underway. Maintain air presence. We do not want press helicopters crowding our air space," the dispatcher relayed.

"Understood Central." The pilot circled again. "We've got a mess down there. Rescue crews are working to remove crash victims. Any word on their status?"

"Negative at this time, Air 19. We do know that one of those vehicles was occupied by on-duty LAPD detectives."

"Copy that." The pilot cast a look toward the ground below. "Central, you might want to send more ground support to this location. Traffic is backing up quickly. Additional emergency vehicles are having difficulty reaching this location."

"10-4 Air 19. Additional patrol support is rolling."

"What a mess," the co-Pilot stated. He had binoculars in hand. "That is one mangled Crown Vic. No way they're getting out of there in one piece."

"Let's hope for the best." The pilot was keeping one eye on the ground, another on his instruments. "Be advised you are entering restricted LAPD air space," he spoke to the news helicopter that was approaching. "You are being instructed to turn back now." He shook his head. "The vultures have arrived."

"Let's hope our boys on the ground have more than carcasses for their news reels," the other one replied.

On the ground, Detective Julio Sanchez jogged toward the center of the accident scene. He flashed his badge at the fire and EMS personnel that he passed. A couple of patrol officers tried to stop him, but he knew both of them. "Get out of my way Jacobs," his dark eyes promised payback if they didn't step aside. "Those are my people up there." Sanchez shouldered past them. He was aware of the others, quickly following. Somewhere behind him, Provenza was grumbling loudly at some unlucky guy who had the misfortune of stopping him.

When Julio cleared the side of the fire truck all the air in his lungs left. He had to bend forward at the waist, while the street and buildings around him spun slowly. "Holy mother," he muttered quietly. He ran his hands into his hair, fisting them as he straightened up. The Crown Victoria had come to rest on its roof, with the front and passenger side caved in. The car had rolled, before another vehicle had struck it, causing it to spin. The light pole had stopped it's trajectory, else it would have ended up on the sidewalk.

"My God." Provenza stopped beside him. He paled upon seeing the damage. He laid a hand on Sanchez's shoulder, whether to keep himself upright or to offer comfort to the younger man, it was hard to say.

"Let's hope he's here right now," Julio said quietly. "Let's hope he's listening…" He for one, was already praying.

Provenza was nodding slowly. "Call…" He stopped. He had to take a moment, just to breathe. Finally, he nodded once and straightend. "Call Buzz. No news, no radios. No one says anything in the Murder Room. Let's get this contained." Before the younger man could move off, he gripped his shoulder tighter. "Julio. We rally. We protect or own."

Sanchez nodded, just once. "Yes sir."

The car was theirs. As were the people inside it. As were those waiting back at the station. Provenza had his phone out, but stared at it in his hand. His fingers felt numb. His brain was still a little sluggish. There were things to do, but he was more worried about what was happening thirty feet away, then what he needed to be doing at the moment. He could hear Sanchez speaking calmly nearby. Provenza finally lifted the phone to his ear after hitting the speed dial. "Get me Taylor," he ordered the secretary. "I need him to make some calls."

There were families that would have to be notified. One way or another.


	2. Chapter 2

Unconditionally - Chapter 2

by Kadi

Rated M

* * *

_**48 Hours Earlier**__**…**_

"I don't like it." Louis Provenza scowled darkly at the detective standing near the head of the conference table. The discussion was taken behind closed doors. A smaller version of their white board had been brought in. Amy stood near it, a marker in hand, jotting notes as they were laid out. "If we reopen this, we're talking about bringing up a lot of bad memories for a lot of people. It's a bad idea. The man is dead, let's let… sleeping rats lie."

Sharon Raydor pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She had not imagined that this would be simple, but a little bit of support could not be outside the realm of possibility, could it? "Lieutenant, I understand your reservations," she began, calmly. "I share them, however, the fact remains that Michael Allen's case was never actually closed by _me_. He may be dead, but I believe that we owe it to his family to bring that investigation to some real closure." She was nearing the end of her patience.

They had been locked in the conference room for several hours, going through the particulars of the case. The Michael Allen investigation was an Internal Affairs case, but Major Crimes was going to be assisting. In so much as Major Crimes ever _assisted_ with anything. In other words, they were taking over, if the Captain had anything to say about it. They didn't have anything pending, and it was of particular interest to Sharon to see this one closed, one way or another. The case was three years old, and one of hers which had been passed into the hands of Sergeant Elliot while she assisted Major Crimes with the federal law suit. Afterward, before she could get back to it, she was transferred. Now, Michael Allen was dead. He had died of cancer while waiting for trial in the shooting death of the young woman who had been dating his son.

The case never set well with Sharon, nor Officer Allen's confession. He had an impeccable record, and it seemed odd that he would lose it as he had claimed. In Officer Allen's confession, he claimed that hearing the young woman belittle his son, while confessing to be pregnant with another boy's child, had pushed him over the edge. He had also been drinking, and that had contributed to the incident. Allen claimed to have just snapped, to have seen red, and then young Sarah Leslie was dead.

There was Allen's record, all of his departmental psych evaluations, and the fact that many officers knew that Allen never had more than one or two beers in a single sitting. The night of the shooting he was reeking of cheap tequila. There was the odd behavior of his son, Jason, and when it was all put together, it just didn't fit into the square peg Michael Allen created for them.

Now that Michael Allen was dead, of a disease that he had not disclosed to anyone, least of all his family… the facts were becoming a lot more clear.

"What closure?" Provenza gestured at the white board. "The man offed his son's girlfriend, then he died in jail. It's closed. Move on." He leaned forward in his seat to point a finger at her. "What can be gained of dredging all of this up? If Internal Affairs doesn't like how it's investigation turned out, then that's not our problem, is it?"

Sharon drew a small, cleansing breath, and attempted to count to ten. She cast a look to her left and found Lieutenant Flynn watching her silently. He shrugged when she looked at him.

He wanted to agree with his partner, but he could see that it was bothering her. "I think what he's forgetting is that you were the original investigating IA officer." He tilted his head at her and a small crooked grin quirked the corner of his mouth upward.

Her lips pursed. She suppressed the urge to smile. "I'm less certain I should consider that a complement than I am that it is an effect of his—"

"Now look," Provenza interrupted her, scowl darkening. "I haven't forgotten anything. I'm just saying that _you _are not Internal Affairs anymore. You can't go around reopening every little case that didn't feel right. If you do that, you'll never have any time to do any _real_ work."

Sharon rolled her eyes and chose to ignore what she decided to classify as his little dig at the investigations conducted by her former department. "I appreciate your opinion on the matter, Lieutenant," Sharon stood and moved around the room. "The fact is, this isn't open for debate. If Michael Allen did not shoot Sarah Leslie, then this department needs to find out who did, and why a decorated officer with an impeccable record chose to confess to the crime."

"You think the son did it." It wasn't a question. Flynn stretched his legs in front of him. He was leaning against the credenza at the far end of the room, near the windows. "Girlfriend breaks up with him, tells him she's pregnant with another guy's kid, and he freaks out. Uses his dad's gun on her. Dad knows he's dying anyway and… since it was a crime of passion, he decides to spare his son the years in prison for a mistake. He confesses to the crime himself. Dies in jail, no one is the wiser."

"The thought occurred," Sharon admitted. "I remember Michael from my patrol days. He was steady. I can't imagine that he would just lose it in the manner he described. Still, we have a confession, and no evidence actually linking his son to the crime. Officer Allen managed to alter the crime scene sufficiently."

"Officer Allen signed his confession, then he hired a lawyer, and he refused to speak to anyone from our office again," Sergeant Elliot stated. "We couldn't prove or disprove his claim, and with the confession, the DA's office was more than satisfied with moving forward."

"The department was unaware of Officer Allen's illness. He didn't disclose it to anyone, including his wife, and certainly not to his lawyer." Sharon folded her arms against her chest and leaned her hip against the conference table. "I'd like to see this one closed. Properly. I think we have enough to reopen the murder investigation. Sergeant Elliot is going to provide us with the notes from the Internal Affairs case—"

"What, you mean you don't remember everything," Provenza drawled sarcastically. "Well, wonders never cease. She is infallible after all." He rolled his eyes at the others. "Okay fine, assuming for just a moment that you're right, we don't have any physical evidence that the son did it. How are you planning to proceed?"

"Me?" Sharon's smile was slow. Her eyes glittered. "No, not me." She held up her hands and pointed her fingers at her gathered team. "We." Sharon clasped her hands together in front of her. "As you reminded me just a few minutes ago, I'm not Internal Affairs any more. That means that Sergeant Elliot will be going back downstairs, and I will be working this one with my current team."

The older man leaned back in his chair with a huff. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

His partner shrugged. "Yeah." Flynn straightened and stood. "Someone better order some food, looks like we're going to be here all night."

"I didn't think overtime was in the budget?" Sykes's brows went up. She looked around the room. "Isn't the Chief going to be upset?"

"It falls under the federal mandate," Sharon pointed out. "He can't deny our overtime. We're _assisting_ in the investigation of a possible officer involved shooting which could actually be a murder. Don't worry, you'll get paid." She turned on her heel and fixed Elliot with a smile. "Thank you, Sam, we'll take it from here."

"Yes ma'am," he quirked a grin. "I'll have the other files brought up from storage."

While the Captain walked the sergeant out, Flynn scratched his forehead and shook his head at the rest of the team. "I think we're going to have to rename her."

"Oh?" Provenza snorted. "I think Witch still fits."

"Nope." Flynn smirked. "Loophole."

Sanchez leaned forward in his seat with a grin. "When you know all the rules, you know all the ways _around _all the rules."

"We haven't gotten in trouble even once in two years," Tao reminded them. "That's a new record."

Provenza tapped his knuckles against the table while he thought about it. "Huh." He hadn't realized that. Now that they mentioned it, they were right. There hadn't even been a single complaint filed by another division. That was a new record for them. Even Flynn had stayed out of trouble, by some odd miracle of luck. "Loophole," he agreed with a nod.

Sykes looked around the room. "I don't get it."

"Come on." Sanchez stood up and decided to take pity on his partner. "Let's go order something to eat. I'll explain it." He stretched as he walked toward the door. "Pizza?"

"If you're calling Papa Marcel's," Flynn called out. "I want the spinach and pesto. Captain wants a salad."

"Captain wants a salad," Provenza mimicked under his breath, making Tao chuckle. "Idiot."

"I'm going to see if Buzz will make a coffee run," Tao decided to vacate the room. He didn't feel like being witness to another one of their arguments about the Captain.

"Wait," Provenza called out. "Flynn needs to make sure you know how the Captain takes hers."

His partner rolled his eyes and waved Tao on. "You're crankier than usual. Couldn't find any rookies to run down on the way to work this morning?"

"Says the Captain's pet." Provenza clasped his fingers against his stomach and swiveled in his chair to watch his partner. "Rein it in, old friend, you're getting too obvious."

"What?" He held up his hands. "The captain always gets a salad when we order pizza. In what way is that obvious?" Flynn tilted his head, while his eyes narrowed. "Jealous?"

"Hardly." He laughed. "I might not think she's a complete dunderhead, and for the most part, she's useful. That doesn't mean that I, in any way, _like_ her." Provenza pointed at his partner. "She might have made a decent homicide detective, if we'd gotten our hands on her about ten years ago, but now she's just a paper pusher." He nodded firmly.

Flynn's lips pursed. He braced his hands on the back of one of the chairs and leaned over it. "I think you're protesting too much." His dark eyes glittered with a amusement and mischief. "You do like her. She's grown on you. All that business with Rusty and Stroh a few months ago, she got under your skin. You had to admit that she was a person. That's why you're so riled up lately. You're never going to be able to just think of her as the Wicked Witch who stole your job again."

Provenza snorted in response. "She's welcome to it. Have you seen the miles of paperwork this squad produces? Not to mention those weekly meetings with Taylor. I've decided they did me a favor. That doesn't mean I think she's a person. What I think is that you're an idiot. You've got a crush on your boss, and that never leads to anything but trouble." His chin lifted marginally. "You're walking a fine line, my friend, and it's one you're going to end up regretting."

His eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah. You like her." Flynn straightened up with a smirk. "She got under your skin good. You can deny it all you like, but I can see right through you." He strode toward the door. "I think she'd be touched that you're worrying about her. Doesn't mean anything is going on. The only one being obvious here is you."

"Hey Flynn…" Provenza called him back. "You've got a little makeup on your collar. Wonder who that belongs to?" He pointed to the spot, just on the edge of the other man's collar and smirked. He had been wondering at the spot, but it wasn't until his partner got closer that he made out the light, tan colored smudge. He enjoyed watching his partner's hand reach up to cover the spot. Once he was alone in the room, Provenza chuckled quietly. Some days, he really enjoyed his job.

While the team was preparing for what was bound to be a long evening, Sharon stepped into her office to send the memo on their current case to Taylor's office. It would ensure that they didn't catch any others until the Allen case was resolved, or something more pressing took point. Her phone vibrated in her blazer pocket while she was typing the email. Sharon reached for it out of habit and swept a hand across the screen to reveal the message. Her brow arched upon realizing it was from Flynn.

She glanced through the windows of her office and found him at his desk. Sharon rolled her eyes at him and lifted her phone to read the text. _We__'__ve got him. _

Her brows drew together. Sharon looked through the windows at him again and inclined her head. When Andy reached up and brushed the edge of his collar her lips pressed together. She shook her head at him and sent a reply. _Took him long enough. It__'__s been there for three hours. He__'__s slipping._

_False sense of security. I forgot about it. Game__'__s on._

Sharon rolled her eyes at him again and turned her attention back to her computer. She couldn't suppress the smile however, and a minute later, when she looked up again he was still at his desk, watching her. Sharon gave him a pointed look and nodded her head toward the conference room. This was just the sort of behavior that they were trying to avoid while at the station. It was Andy's idea to allow Provenza to _discover_ their relationship, rather than just reveal it. The old Lieutenant would be able to huff and puff with so much bluster about the situation, he could lecture and rail, and then find his own measure of peace with it. Sharon wasn't completely sold on the idea, but she was letting Andy have his way on this one. It wasn't as though they were doing anything wrong. She was no longer married, and while he was her subordinate, they weren't exactly rookies or children. The regulations were in place to protect them both, and Sharon had followed them to the letter - as per her usual habit. The situation had been reported to the necessary parties, and they would be evaluated at unplanned intervals to make sure that they had not become professionally unbound.

Relationships were about compromise, picking your battles, and she was giving him two weeks and then she was putting an end to his fun.

She tapped her nails against the edge of her computer and smiled. Their fun. Provenza could be a bit of a handful and it was slightly amusing watching him try to figure them out. Only slightly.

Once the memo was sent, Sharon left her office. She strode across the Murder Room, intent on returning to the conference room. As she passed him at his desk, she slanted a look at Flynn. "I can't believe I let myself forget how much trouble you really are," she muttered.

For his part, Andy simply flashed a wide grin at her. He gave her one of the winks which usually got him out of hot water. It had never worked on Sharon, but he never stopped trying. Instead, she rolled her eyes at him and kept on walking. Andy followed her with a laugh. "I heard this rumor, seems like you're sucker for the hard cases."

"Not to be confused with hard-_headed_ cases," she pointed out with a light smirk. Sharon's eyes glittered when they reached the conference room. She let him pull the door open for her and stepped inside. "I figured you out years ago, Lieutenant."

"So you would like to believe," he countered with a raised brow. "I probably still have ways of surprising you."

Her lips pursed and Sharon hummed. "We'll see." Sharon moved into the room and crossed to the files which Sergeant Elliot had already supplied.

While Andy helped, she began filling in the remaining details on the white board and supplementing what she recalled of the case. She was more than just peripherally aware of Provenza watching them while they worked, at least until she became fully involved in her task. Then Sharon forgot completely about the _game_ and fell into habits which predated any change in her relationship with her Lieutenant.

They had always worked well together, when they weren't arguing, which was typically born of one of them needing to be on the offensive while the other pushed back. She had investigated him a number of times, and the simple fact was that his temper and his mouth tended to get him into trouble. That was a habit which had remained even after his drinking had no longer been an issue. When they weren't arguing, and Andy wasn't searching for the easy way out, they were actually like minded. They worked well together, which made it only natural that they gravitated toward one another after her transfer, at least, professionally.

Andy could follow her thought process, even when she wasn't completely certain where it was headed, and she could usually tell when the wheels in his head were turning - and in which direction they were going. Sharon remembered most of the case, but it was the specific dates which she had Andy call out for her while she wrote the information down. She included the officers involved in the questioning, and the suspects which they had investigated, even with Allen's confession. While they worked, the rest of their team slowly rejoined them.

Buzz had gone for coffee, giving only a token protest when he returned with it. Sanchez and Sykes returned shortly after, and began distributing the team's dinner orders. Sharon and Flynn took a break then, to join them in eating. It was while they were seated, reviewing the case that the remainder of the files arrived.

Lieutenant Adam Matthews brought the files up himself, assisted by another officer. He was directed by one of the uniforms assigned to the division on where he could find the squad. A broad smile lit his face when he pushed open the conference room door and laid eyes on his former Captain. He was a lean, athletic man of average height in his mid-thirties. Sandy colored hair and blue eyes. He was one of the officers whom Captain Raydor had handpicked and trained during her tenure with IA. He was also considered a legacy, his father and grandfather had both been LAPD, and were both incredibly opinionated about the turn his career had taken after meeting the clever and respected Captain. It hadn't deterred Matthews. He liked a challenge, and had appreciated the atmosphere within the walls of the IA division.

"Captain." He hefted the box he carried. "Rumor has it homicide isn't keeping you busy enough. If these guys aren't enough for you, maybe you should come on back." He set the box on the table and leaned against it. His smile had turned crooked, quirking toward playful and flirting.

"Adam." She smiled warmly at him. "You didn't have to bring all that up yourself." Sharon turned her chair toward him and placed her salad back on the table. "I can assure you, we've been staying plenty busy, besides which, I don't think Mason would appreciate your attempting to demote him."

"You might be surprised." He flashed another grin at her and tapped his fingers against the top of the box. "I think this is everything you asked for. Elliot skipped out, dinner with the wife. That makes me your personal errand boy."

"Well, I appreciate it." She stood up and moved over. Sharon slid the box toward her and lifted the lid. Within, she found the files that would bring them completely up to date. They had the coroner's report, the SID report and analyses. Sharon lifted the files out, one by one, and handed them to the members of her team. "This is exactly what I needed, Adam. Thank you." She opened the file containing the background information on the victim, Sarah Leslie, and began reading through it, immediately engrossed.

"Yeah, so…" Flynn stood up and retrieved the other. "I think we can handle it from here." He passed it to Sanchez, who was only too willing to take it, and in turn, handed it to Tao. Then the two detectives stood, watching the Internal Affairs _intruder_, who was flirting so openly with their Captain. "We'll keep her plenty occupied." He folded his arms over his chest and towered over the other man, using his height to intimidate.

Matthews glanced at him, but was not immediately concerned. Instead, he inched just a bit closer to the Captain and turned his boyish grin on her again. "Sure you don't need a hand wading through all of it? I think I remember the particulars. Weren't you always the one telling us to play nice with the other divisions."

She rolled her eyes toward him, but her gaze was filled with amusement. "I think we've got it. I'll let you know if we need anything. Thank you again, Adam." She took the file in her hand and moved to the white board along with Detective Tao who was eager to get his hands on the particulars.

Flynn was working on attempting to inch him toward the door. The Captain was either oblivious or purposefully ignoring him, but the rest of them had watched while Matthews' eyes had travelled decidedly south and stayed longer than they should. Beside him, he could sense Julio's mood shifting. Even Provenza had inclined his head and scowled a little harder than was usual. Nearby, Buzz's head had risen and he was watching with particular interest, and mild annoyance. It was true, Major Crimes had a habit of closing ranks around their cases. They didn't like to share, and made no secret of it. More than once they had tangled with Internal Affairs and its several branches, so there was very little love lost between the two divisions. There was just one little difference now, they currently had the upper hand.

"Yeah, so…" Andy continued, his own annoyance becoming evident. "I think that's your cue to scurry on back down to the rat cave." He leaned a hip against the table and tapped his chin. "Although, it occurs to me, there must not be much going on down there. You know, if you've got time to play errand boy. If it's a side job you're in the market for, I heard the deli down the street is looking for a new delivery boy."

"Lieutenant Matthews," Sharon glanced up. Her own eyes flashed, just for a moment, before her look became impassive. "That will be all. Thank you. My guys…" Her gaze swept the room, then landed on Flynn and became a tad frostier, "I think we've plenty of our own work to be focused on at present. It's going to be a long night, but I don't intend to spend all of it here. I suggest we get to it."

Whether Matthews finally got the hint, or decided to quit while he was behind, he took the dismissal. "Ma'am…" He nodded as he withdrew, along with the other detective, but looking none too pleased about it.

Flynn and Sanchez exchanged a look. The younger detective shrugged before he tossed the lid off the second box and began digging in to the files there. Flynn rolled his eyes and caught his Partner's gaze. _Women_.

_"Love is our true destiny. _

_We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. _

_We find it with another.__" _

— _Thomas Merton_

A glass of wine would have been her preferred way of closing a day like the one she had, but Sharon chose tea instead. It was late by the time she finally made it home, nearing ten. That she found Rusty still working his way through homework was an indication that he had spent the evening in front of the television or a chess game rather than studying. The boy knew when he was busted. He had smiled sheepishly when she walked past him, and continued ploughing his way through the vocabulary assignment. Sharon found she was much too tired to admonish him, but she shook her head at him while she placed the kettle on to boil.

"Did you eat?" She opened the fridge and peered inside, not hungry herself, but she always felt guilty at leaving him to fend for himself. He was eighteen now, not exactly a child, and no longer under a protective order. He could have ordered out, or walked down the street to pick up takeout. She kept cash in a jar in the kitchen, just for that purpose. It was a hold over, habit, from when her older children had lived at home.

"I grabbed some Chinese on my way home earlier," he looked up from the assignment again. "There's leftovers. I got the orange chicken you like, just in case."

Her smile softened, and she let the homework transgression go completely. Sharon shook her head, but gave him an affectionate look. "I ate at the station, but thank you."

Rusty grinned, then he shrugged. "More for me later."

Sharon chuckled. Even after raising two teenage boys, she could still be astonished by how much they could eat. Rusty was no different from Ricky in that regard. "Hm." She took her favorite mug out of the cupboard and placed a tea bag in it while she waited for the water, and shrugged out of her jacket. Sharon walked over and leaned against the table. "I thought the SAT prep ended in the fall?"

"It did," Rusty shrugged as he filled out a crossword puzzle assignment for his senior English class. "I think Sister Charlotte is just at a loss for ideas for the rest of the semester. It's filler work, but that's fine. It's not all that hard." He certainly wasn't going to complain given that he was back in school, and he actually had a real teacher to assign any kind of work. Even with the year almost over and graduation looming, the shine had not worn off his return to a _normal_ life.

"How much do you have left?" Sharon moved through the living room when the knock came at the door. At this hour, that could only be one person.

He might have gotten off without a lecture, but Sharon could still get her point across. Rusty flashed a small grin. "Not much. I got a late start. Might go faster if I had a little help," he hedged, mostly teasing.

"Let me think about that…" Sharon smirked and peered through the peep hole. She sighed, almost wearily.

"You could give me a six-letter word, synonym for annoy," Rusty tossed over his shoulder, eyes dancing with continued amusement.

Her lips pursed as she opened the door. She looked back at Rusty. Her tone was dry. "Andrew." Tempted though she was to shut the door again, she turned on her heel and left him standing there to walk back to her kitchen and fetch the now whistling kettle.

"I don't think that's what they're looking for. Starts with a B for one." Rusty cast a surreptitious glance at the Lieutenant when he stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. He could almost swear he heard him sigh. He almost wanted to sing-song, _someone was in trouble!_ Instead, he kept his attention focused firmly on his homework.

"Badger, bother," Sharon began, using the same dry, almost emotionless tone. She took down a second mug and filled both of them.

"Bedevil." Andy leaned against the breakfast counter and watched her. When she slanted a look at him, he merely arched a brow in response.

Her eyes narrowed. She set the mug in front of him. "Yes," she drew the syllable out and lifted her brows, her expression expectant.

"For the record," Andy began. "You started it." He picked up the tea bag and dropped it in. He fought the urge to grin at the way she glared at him. "I was only trying to help."

"You were acting like a jealous idiot," she shot back. "Andy, you _cannot_, and I really can't stress this enough, _cannot_ behave like that. Detective Matthews is just a boy! He's barely thirty-five. In what universe did you think that it was okay…"

"Don't act like you don't know," he rested his hands on the edge of the counter, but rolled his eyes at her. "Sharon, he practically ran all the way from the fifth floor the moment he found out that Elliot was turning that case over to you. That _boy_ has been following you around like a puppy for the last six years, and you know it."

Her smile became almost saccharine as she drawled, "Well, you would know." She lifted her tea and moved, almost serenely, to the sofa with it. Her heels were removed and pushed under the coffee table. Sharon drew her legs up under her after sitting. "I don't know why you people always find it so hard to believe that there are others who actually _like_ me, without making it about innuendo. I'm actually a very likable person." Her eyes widened and went to the table and the laughter that was echoing form that direction. "Rusty!"

"I'm sorry." He turned in his chair. There was nothing but affection in his gaze. "I like you. Flynn likes you. You have friends. But Sharon…" He shook his head at her. "You're not the kind of person that… well, you don't…" Rusty gestured with his hands but found he was having a hard time putting it into words, especially when she pouted at them. "Okay, at _work_," he clarified, "you can be downright scary."

"Terrifying even." Andy moved to the sofa and sat down nearby. He placed his tea on the table in front of them and reached for her legs. He pulled them across his lap and began to rub her feet. "You can't deny that you have a certain reputation, one that you've spent decades shaping. Baby, it's been two years, and I can tell you there are those who still break out in a cold sweat when they hear the words Captain and Raydor together. It took Buzz three months to stop dropping things after you transferred."

"Okay, fine." Sharon had to concede that point. "Not that pointing out how _old_ I am is going to get you anywhere," she warned Andy, "but I will admit.. to a certain level of… detachment." She tilted her head at him. "That still doesn't give you the right to act like a jerk. You were incredibly rude this evening. You practically ran that boy out of the Murder Room. Would you treat Buzz or Julio that way if they were just offering to be helpful? I'll remind you, it isn't easy doing the job I used to do. My own reputation aside, people don't actually care for Internal Affairs as a whole. I was actually very fond of my old team. I hand picked and trained most of them, Matthews and Elliot for example."

Andy stared at her for a moment. "If Julio was staring at your rack the way Matthews was, you better believe it," he told her in a dry tone. The corners of his mouth twitched, he held onto her ankles to keep her from kicking him when he felt the muscles in her calves contract. His dark eyes danced with amusement. "Sharon, the guy has a crush. It isn't hard to believe. The only person who couldn't see it was you. If I hadn't run him off, Sanchez would have. Which one do you prefer?"

"You're all impossible." She rolled her eyes at him. "I prefer the members of my team to act like the professionals they are supposed to be."

"Now we're getting into topics that could give me nightmares for the rest of my life." Rusty stood up and began gathering his books and laptop. "This is me, fleeing. You know, we should have rules about things like this. Something like, no discussions of anyone's anatomy while Rusty is in the room. Seems reasonable to me."

"What?" Andy smirked slightly as the kid made his beeline toward the hall, moving quickly. "All I said was rack."

"Andy!" Sharon reached over and smacked his arm at Rusty's loud groan. "Honestly, there are times when you are less mature than the teenager. I cannot believe that I continue to put up with you." She huffed a sigh of feigned exasperation. "I continuously find myself pondering an unending litany of questions as to why or how I could possibl—" The remainder of her teasing diatribe was lost in a squeak when she was tugged into his lap. His hands were in her hair and his mouth covering hers in the next second. The way that excitement and anticipation danced through her, cresting on a wave of sudden heat, it never failed to surprise her. Her arms curled around his neck while her lips curved upward. She shifted and redistributed her weight so that she was straddling him. "Okay," she murmured quietly. "That could be why."

"You think so?" His arms looped casually, loosely, around her waist. "You're right, Matthews is just a _boy_," he stated, with far less irritation than he had expressed earlier that evening. "Otherwise, he would understand how disrespectful it was to check you out like that in front of your own people. I know you don't see it. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but it had nothing to do with _this_," he shrugged, indicating their personal relationship. "If I hadn't been around, one of the others would have taken care of it. Even Buzz was getting uncomfortable. The team doesn't know about _this_ yet, but the guys deferred to me because of what they _think_ is going on, but make no mistake, he was out of line. We protect our own."

That never failed to startle her when they claimed her, even now, two years later. She drew a breath and glanced away, momentarily. "Apology accepted. I'll attempt to be more observant next time." Sharon looked up at him through her lashes. "If you will tone it down, just a little? We need to give the appearance of at least _trying_ to behave ourselves."

"I'll try." He wouldn't promise more than that. He'd never had a very good handle on his temper, or the level to which people could rile him from one moment to the next. There was, however, enough uncertainty in her expression, for just the briefest space of time, that he cupped her cheek. She had spent too long in the shadows of Internal Affairs. It was still hard for her to believe that she had been accepted by them. "There's no getting rid of us now," he rumbled. "You're pretty stuck with all of us, even Sykes."

"Ah," her brows lifted. "But she and I are both the outsiders. Why do you all think I recruited her? Even if she is a bit, hmm, eager to please. I didn't want to be the only one on the outside." Sharon's head tilted, she smiled down at him. "You all haven't always been easy to deal with, and I knew it would be hard to break through that outer barrier. Especially with just how well that first day went. You yelled at me," she reminded him, offering a playful pout.

"I'm sorry." His hand slid into her hair to cup the back of her neck. His thumb was gently stroking the side of her neck, tracing the long, graceful line.

"No you're not," she drawled. Sharon exhaled softly and leaned into his hand. "You were looking for an excuse to express your displeasure with the change, and you found it. You weren't the least bit sorry then or now." Although, he hadn't yelled at her again, and had actually moved into a position to begin helping her after getting the initial outburst off his chest.

"You're right." His other arm was still draped loosely around her waist. His fingers began to draw lazy circles against the small of her back. "I wasn't sorry. I was pissed off. I just finished convincing myself that I didn't care how short your skirts were, or how great your legs looked in those three-inch heels, and then there you are." He sighed, heavily, and looking rather put upon. "It really was a rough day for me. It was a lot to deal with. I just kept thinking to myself… this is nuts, I don't even like brunettes."

Sharon's lips pressed together. She rolled her eyes at him. "You really are a horrible, horrible man. I cannot believe that I allowed myself to fall for such an absolute chauvinist!"

Andy gathered her close so that she couldn't slip away. He tugged her head down and nibbled playfully at her bottom lip. "Yeah… but you did. You love it."

"Hmm." Her fingers traced the curve of his jaw. "Something like that," her voice dropped an octave, growing thick. When he caught her wrist and drew it to his lips, she gasped quietly at the feel of teeth and tongue against the sensitive flesh. Their eyes met, and a wealth of emotion was shared. They could communicate so much with a single look, ire, disappointment, amusement. They could share an idea, decide on a course of action, or as now, express desire, affection, and love. Sharon shifted against him, pressing closer, and delighted in the darkening of his eyes. "Andy…"

The breathless drawl, the low rasping quality of her tone, it could do as much to incite him as any touch. His hands fell to her hips and he held her in place when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against her neck. He felt her pulse jump beneath his lips, and then the low, soft moan filled his ears. Andy's lips travelled up to her ear. His voice rumbled, low and thick. "I can think of a few more b-words. Beguiled… bewitched…bewildered. Definitely bothered." There was a low chuckle, and when he drew back, the smile that curved her lips just made him want to kiss her that much more. The corner of her mouth, which quirked up in that crooked smile he found so dear became of particular interest. Her lips were soft, and her hands were in his hair. The gentle scrape of her nails against the skin at his collar made him inhale deeply. "Beloved," he mumbled, and drew her into another slow kiss. It lingered for a long, drawn moment. Then with some amount of restraint, Andy managed to set her away from him and stand. He drew her with him, and it was only the knowledge that they could be happened upon by the other resident of the condo at any moment that kept him from pressing her into the soft cushions of the sofa. His arm curled around her instead, and he drew her to his side as they made their way toward her bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Unconditionally - Chapter 3

by Kadi

Rated M

A/N: The beanbag is for **deenikn8**. I think you were right about it!

* * *

"_What lies behind us and what lies before us _

_are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.__"_

—_Ralph Waldo Emerson_

The team reconvened early the next morning. They had worked out the plan of action the previous evening, and by 8am they had rolled out to begin the followup interviews. They could call in Michael Allen's wife, or Sarah Leslie's father, but that would alert them that the investigation was not as closed as they believed it to be. They wanted the interviews to be candid; after three years there was plenty of time for stories to have been rehearsed so often that any of them could now believe they were true.

Tao had taken Sykes with him, as she was the only one willing to listen to the description of the technique he was using to access the archives on phone records and financials and compare the data to current records. She was still new enough to the team, even after two years, to smile politely and nod while he droned on in technological excitement. It was also something of a default, as Flynn and Sanchez had quickly escaped together, both abandoning Sykes the very moment that the Captain had announced that Provenza was with her.

He insisted upon driving, but that was not unusual. Provenza typically preferred to be behind the wheel. He couldn't trust the others, especially in LA traffic. At least if he was the one driving, then he knew that he could anticipate the idiocy of those around him. Beside him, the Captain had a file in her lap, and was reading while they moved through morning traffic. From the corner of his eye, he watched her tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and turn page in the file. The collar of her deep, amethyst blouse, only barely covered the light red marks that dotted the crook of her neck. When she pulled her hair over her shoulder, the action caused the collar to slip, and the marks to become more visible. She was playing with the ends of her hair, something she did when she was lost in thought or particularly engrossed in something. Provenza rolled his eyes and snorted quietly.

"I'm trying to decide," he began at length. "If I should be amused, insulted, or just pissed off." He looked at her over the rims of his glasses before turning his attention back to the road. His hands shifted against the steering wheel and he tilted his head in thought. He had her attention now, and she appeared initially startled, but then her look became impassive. By now, he recognized when it happened. The way her expression could become impassive, almost serene. Provenza waved a hand at her in a gesture that was near to being dismissive. "This little game you're playing with Flynn. As though the two of you actually believe that you are not completely obvious."

A small smile graced her lips. Sharon turned her attention back to the case file on Jason Allen, their dead _suspect__'__s_ son. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Lieutenant." She used the casually clipped tone that she reserved for Emma Rios, but it was tinged with enough amusement to make it less abrasive than she inflicted upon the young Deputy DA. "If your partner is scheming without you, that's something you should really discuss with him. I'm also equally sure that I don't want to know what it is that he's up to."

"Mmhm." Provenza shook his head. "You understand that I'm neither blind nor stupid." He slanted a look at her then scowled at traffic slowing in front of them. "Flynn's an idiot, what I'm trying to decide is if you're not nearly as intelligent as we were beginning to think, or if you're just as insane as he is."

Sharon sighed softly and closed the case file. She clasped her hands and rested them against it before giving him her full attention. "You're displeased." They had expected that, to some extent. Provenza was a bit _old school_ as it were, and very set in his ways and ideals. It wasn't often that he was prone to changing them, or thinking outside his particular box.

"You're slipping," he fired back at her. "You let yourself be swept into one of Flynn's schemes. Have you lost your mind? Is this some sort of delayed midlife crisis? It's been a stressful year," he observed as he scowled at her. "A moment of insanity I could understand, but one of _Flynn__'__s _schemes? Are you nuts?"

She arched a brow at him. "I appreciate that you're upset with me, Lieutenant, but I'd appreciate a little less rancor and a little more respect," she said easily. Sharon shook her head. "I haven't been swept up in anything, as obviously, it is obsolete at this point. You've seen right through him, which is something I was half expecting. Whatever else he was thinking, Andy believed it would be better to ease you into certain… information, rather than just dumping it on you." She shrugged. "I was allowing him to proceed since he felt it was necessary and it was amusing to him. I take it you're not amused."

"Well, you may not be as clever as I thought, but at least you aren't completely blind," he groused. "It might also be interesting to you, that I was asked to keep an eye on that situation about five seconds after you reported it. I'm trying to figure out on what side of the world you actually believed that _I_ didn't know. Do I look like a rookie to you?"

She pressed her lips together and considered her response carefully. Her eyes were dancing with mirth, although she schooled her tone and chose to pacify. "Of course not, Lieutenant. I assure you, that was the farthest thing from my mind. Nor did I believe that you were unobservant, or incapable of seeing through one of Andy's schemes, as you called it. I was merely allowing him to proceed as he felt best, given that he does know you somewhat better than I." She settled for a light, friendly smile. "I do apologize."

The old man huffed and maneuvered the car through traffic. He took the next left, intending to bypass the congestion they were currently experiencing. "Just do us all a favor, he's an idiot, but we're counting on you to be the mature one."

Sharon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I suppose that is your way of telling me that everyone is aware?" She would have preferred not having everyone clued into the details of her private life, but it seemed that with her transfer came a certain inability to separate the two - professional and personal. She was striving rather hard for that distance, but the harder she attempted to separate them, the more intertwined they became. First with Rusty, and now this relationship with Andy. She was beginning to wonder if the problem lay in her desire to retain both of them in her life, rather than pursue the more peaceful course of action. Emotion was messy, that was the price that they paid for it.

"Pretty much." Provenza smirked at her. "Sykes might not know. No surprise really. She's about as observant as a two-by-four most of the time." At the glare it earned him, he sighed. "She's getting better." He pointed his finger at her and shook it. "I would have expected better from you, of all people. For crying out loud. Does professionalism mean nothing?"

Now she did roll her eyes. "I really don't feel like quarreling, Lieutenant. The decisions I make in my private life are just that, private, or at least I'm trying very hard to keep them that way. I apologize that you feel, in some way, offended by this. I'll make sure that Andy understands he is to cease and desist immediately with any further scheming where you are concerned."

"Like hell you will," Provenza snorted at her. "Oh no, you are going to keep your mouth shut. This is between Flynn and I now, and the only reason I brought it up, was to make sure you know to stay out of it. Just remember, when he starts whining later, he brought it on himself. If the two of you want to carry on like a pair of dunderheads, that's just fine, as long as you don't bring it into the Murder Room, but Flynn…" His smile was absolutely mischievous. "He's earned every minute of what he's going to get."

"You're like a pair of school boys," Sharon decided with a sigh. "I'm beginning to think that Rusty is more mature than the two of you when you're on about something. Perhaps it hasn't occurred to you, but this scheme, as you're calling it was for your benefit. It wasn't about Andy at all. Rather than just tell you that things have changed and expect you to accept them, he was giving you the opportunity to figure it out for yourself and have your say. It wasn't _only_ about having fun, although he was certainly doing that too." She was neither blind, nor immune to her lovers flaws, of which there were several. They were mostly endearing and part of his charm.

Her eyes flashed when she came to his partner's defense. Provenza suppressed a smile, although it was difficult. He buried it behind a scowl. She maintained a cool, collected demeanor, most of the time. It wasn't easy to rile her, but she had a few weaknesses. He would have limited those that he knew of to Chief Johnson, Rusty, her other children. Apparently he could now count his wayward partner. That at least assisted him in figuring out just how far this _thing _had progressed. Far enough to put their careers on the line, not that it was really an issue, not with their tenure and experience. There was still a question mark there. Taylor's support and favor could change with the weather, or the wind, so it would bear watching closely. It also appeared to be gone enough that the tenor of her voice had shifted and she was exhibiting a moment of true irritation at him, rather than the usual mild annoyance he managed to provoke. Provenza was aware that he had agitated her, exasperated, and on at least one occasion there was even a moment of complete and utter irritation. At the moment, she was plum riled. Provenza arched a brow at her. He smiled, unable to prevent it.

"I thought," he said carefully, "that we agreed I know my partner better than you do?" He pulled the car through the next intersection and took a right. "You might want to rein it in, Captain. You're looking just a tad flushed, dare I say even, a bit peaked?" His eyes glittered with amusement. He was almost giddy with it, knowing he'd gotten a reaction out of her, and a real one at that. "Of course I know what he was doing, but I'm still going to handle it, and you're going to stay out of it."

"What we agreed on is that he knows _you_ better than I, but I refuse to devolve into a conversation of who knows _who_, and what not." She sniffed, and lifted her chin. Sharon flipped her hair back and exhaled slowly. "You're a pair of irritants, no matter what else is happening, that has not changed. You try my patience, to be sure, and I wonder on a daily basis why it is that I continue to put up with either of you."

"Mmhm," he continued to grin. "I bet you do, Captain." He shook his finger at her again. "Now, settle down, there's no reason for you get upset. By the time I'm finished with Flynn you're going to be thanking me. I have a weapon in my arsenal that you can't even begin to guess at. Just remember, this is between him and me."

Her eyes narrowed. "And if I choose to not keep that in mind?"

"You won't," he stated with some amount of arrogance. "I'll be keeping Flynn so busy that he won't have time to end up with anymore makeup smudges on his dress shirts during the middle of a workday, which is precisely, how you would like it to be."

She tapped her fingers against the center console and nodded. "Fair enough. Proceed, I'll stay very clear. Do me a favor, just don't be unnecessarily mean, hm?"

Provenza rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't spoil it. I can handle Flynn… you, you just keep trying to hide the hickeys."

A gasp was wrought from her. Her eyes widened and the visor immediately came down so that she could flip the mirror open. Sharon checked both sides of her neck until her collar slipped and she spotted the two, small, red marks. She hissed. They hadn't been there when she was doing her hair, which could only mean he'd managed that while she was seeing him off in her parking garage that morning. Sharon adjusted her collar, and then her blazer, and made sure to smooth her hair back into place. "If I shoot him first, there won't be anything for you to handle," she decided.

"If you shoot him," he chortled, "You won't enjoy watching me handle him."

"Indeed." Her head tilted, she smiled. "Do enjoy yourself, Lieutenant."

Provenza slanted a look at her. Their gazes met, and he grinned again. His partner was going to get it, on two separate fronts. The day was looking brighter already.

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence. Sharon returned her attention to the case file in her lap while Provenza maneuvered them through traffic and across town to the coast and the Port Authority. When they reached the docks, Sharon closed the file once again. "Pier 28, as I recall," she informed him.

After they'd parked, they left the car, including the file. Sharon took her gun and badge from her purse and clipped both of them to her belt before joining the Lieutenant. "Three years ago Jason Allen was a shipping supervisor for LSI - Logistic Shipping Incorporated. Current background checks indicate that he's still with the company, and in the same position. LSI is located out of Pier 28." Her heels clicked against the concrete pavement of the parking lot as they strode toward the pier entrance. Buildings lined one side of the docks, with parking and road ways to one side and the shipping structures and docking berths on the other.

"You believe that Jason Allen shot his girlfriend," Provenza stated quietly, "and his father took the rap for it?" He arched a brow at her as they walked. "Then just… calmly and merrily went back about his life, returned to the same job, continues to live in the same house… and that was that. It doesn't jive. Most perps in a crime of passion like that can't maintain the status quo. Everything eventually falls apart."

"Most," Sharon reminded him with a smile. "That doesn't mean all. At the end of the day, while it may be uncomfortable and unfortunate for the Allen family, we owe it to them to follow through on the investigation prior to closing the case. What is it that you and the others have been trying to teach me since I came to Major Crimes? Or even before that… while the evidence is important, I can't ignore the gut feeling that tells me something else is going on."

"Of course, _now_ you'd choose to listen to us." He shook his head at her. "Fine, we're here aren't we? We're all following up on your gut feeling." Provenza smirked slightly. After going through all of the evidence, interview notes, and coroner's report… the team was believing that gut feeling. While he and the Captain were interviewing Jason Allen, the others had gone to follow up with Allen's mother and Sarah Leslie's parents.

"I always listen," Sharon smiled back. "I simply decide when and where to reveal the fact that I've been listening." They strode into a small warehouse, where she knew Jason typically kept his office - or rather he had three years before. "That is, after I've spent considerable time sorting through the data for something worth using."

"The longer you're with us, the more sarcastic you become," he observed. "I'm beginning to wonder if we aren't being bad influences on you."

"What makes you think I wasn't always like this?" She arched a brow at him. "Perhaps I've merely decided that you've earned the right to enjoy it."

"You mean, we've been found _worthy_?" Provenza placed a hand against his chest and feigned astonishment. "Good heavens, however shall we continue living such lowly, insignificant lives."

Sharon snorted. "One step at a time, Lieutenant. That should suffice," she replied, in a teasingly haughty tone.

The pair stopped at a front desk, and after showing their badges, they requested the location of Jason Allen. They were directed through the warehouse and to the shipping bay. When they found him, Jason had a cell phone in one hand and a tablet PC in the other while he directed drivers. "Even the shipping business is high tech these days," Provenza snorted.

Sharon slanted a look at him and suppressed a smile as they approached the young man. "Mr. Allen." She saw the recognition cross his face before he hid it. There was alarm, then it too was swept away behind an impassive mask. "Jason," she said, using a warmer tone. "You may not remember me, Captain Sharon—"

"Raydor." He finished for her. "Yes ma'am, I remember." He stepped toward her and clasped the tablet in front of him. "You and your people investigated my dad. Why are you here now? He's dead." There was genuine confusion in his gaze as he looked between the two officers, badges in plain view.

"That's why we're here. This is Lieutenant Provenza," she stated, indicating the man beside her. "He's a member of my team. Your father was still awaiting trial when he died. We wanted to just make sure there were no loose ends before we closed the case. Do you mind if we talk to you?"

His gaze swept out over the shipping bay. He caught the eye of another clerk and indicated for him to take over with a nod of his head toward the drivers and loads waiting to be moved out. "Sure. We can go over here, it's quieter," he indicated the far side of the bay, near a couple of desks that the supervisors and clerks used during the day. As they passed the clerk that was taking over for him, he handed off the tablet, but kept the phone in his hand. "I only have a few minutes, I've got several drivers out and more shipments coming in."

"We understand." Sharon clasped her hands in front of her. "I hope we'll only need a few minutes. When was the last time you spoke to your father, Jason. The logs at County didn't have you logged in for many visits."

"He didn't want us there," Jason shrugged. "Dad was pretty set on us not visiting. When we did go, he wouldn't see us." For lack of a better place to do them, he settled his hands at his hips and let them rest loosely there. "After a while, I just quit going." He looked away, sadness and regret swept over him. "Now I wish I'd kept trying. I didn't know he was sick. Dad never mentioned it. I don't even think mom knew about it."

"I'm sorry, Jason," Sharon tilted her head at him. "I know this is very difficult for you. What I'd like to do is talk about that night, if we can. Will you take me through it again?"

"That night?" His eyes widened. He shifted nervously. "Why? I mean… it's all over, right?"

Provenza's eyes narrowed. "That's what we're trying to make sure of." He watched the boy closely. While the Captain played the compassionate one, he was going straight for the facts. "It's been a long time. We just want to make sure that what Officer Allen said happened that night was what _really_ took place. In your original statement you said that you were arguing with your girlfriend, Sarah Leslie."

"That's right." Jason's tongue passed over suddenly parched lips. "Sarah came by and… you know, things had been different with us. We were fighting a lot, not spending a lot of time together anymore. She uh… she was telling me that I was working too much, and I didn't pay enough attention to her anymore. Then she said she had met someone else…" He shrugged, fidgeted. "She said a lot of things that night. Some of them weren't very nice. Some of what I said wasn't very nice either. Then Sarah told me she was pregnant. She said it wasn't mine. She started shouting at me, just… got really worked up."

"Then what happened," Sharon prompted, although she recalled the story well.

"Dad was there. I didn't know he was there. He was out in the garage. He spent a lot of time out in the garage those days." Jason shook his head. "He was always tinkering with that old car of his. He was drinking. I guess he had a lot that night. He came in when he heard the yelling. I guess he flipped out, when he heard the things that Sarah was shouting. It happened really fast. One minute he was telling her to leave, the next thing I knew, Sarah was dead, and dad shot her."

It was the same story that he told the night of the shooting, but with far less details. There were more stops and starts, an indication that he was drawing on memory of the statement itself, rather than the events he originally recited. Sharon glanced at Provenza and could see the same conclusion reflected in his gaze. "Jason, your father confessed to the shooting. The thing is… prior to that night, no one with the department had ever known him to have more than a drink or two. He was never prone to outbursts or fits of temper. His behavior that evening seems rather odd and out of character."

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "To me too. We were all just… really knocked over by it. It wasn't like dad at all. I could never imagine him hurting anyone. He always loved being a cop, and he was always such a good one, you know? I mean, is that why you're here? Dad wasn't a cop anymore, and now that he's dead… is there really anything for you to be checking up on?"

She smiled, a bit sheepishly. "Ah, I see. No, Jason. This isn't an Internal Affairs investigation. I've moved into Major Crimes, we're investigating the shooting as a murder. We'd just like to make certain that in closing the case, we have the correct individual on record as having murdered Sarah Leslie."

"Look, I don't know that I can really help you." He shifted again. "That's what happened. Dad did it, and he said he did it. I don't know what else I can do to help you." Someone called his name and he looked over. "I have to get back to work, are we done here?"

"For now," Provenza stated. "We may have more questions for you later. We'll let you know if we need you to join us downtown to answer more questions."

"Right… I'll do what I can." He didn't seem keen on it, not in the least, and hurried away from them when he had the opening.

They waited until he was out of hearing range before Sharon turned to the Lieutenant. "Well?"

He snorted at her. "Gut feeling or ability to recognize the obvious?" He shook his head. "He's lying."

"Oh, he's definitely lying," she said quietly. "Question is, is he lying because he shot Sarah Leslie, or because someone else did?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Provenza stated, his narrow-eyed gaze following the direction that Jason Allen had gone. "Whatever happened that night, one thing is clear. Michael Allen confessed to a crime he didn't commit."

"Yes he did." Sharon's hands found their way to her hips and she sighed. She had really been hoping that she was wrong.

They shared another look. Their suspicions were very much the same. They returned to the car in silence. While Provenza drove them back to the office, Sharon began checking in with the remainder of the team. Tao and Sykes were questioning the victim's parents, while Flynn and Sanchez had gone to question Susan Allen, their dead officer's wife.

They met Flynn and Sanchez back at the station. "Looks like our file was missing another pertinent piece of information." Flynn tossed his note pad down on his desk. "Susan Allen is in rehab. She has a little pain killer addiction. Turns out she was checked in about ninety days ago. She wouldn't see us."

"It's her third stay in the facility, ma'am," Sanchez supplied with less frustration. "Her son checked her in last year, prior to that, she was a resident at another facility, but we don't have the dates yet. We're not sure how far back the addiction goes, we didn't get a lot of answers out of the staff."

"Alright." Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose. That was disheartening, but it could provide another piece of their puzzle. "Let's see if we can get a warrant for Ms. Allen's medical records. It's possible Officer Allen was covering for his wife, and not his son. Unlikely, but possible." As she spoke, Tao and Sykes returned.

"Sarah Leslie's parents are willing to authorize the release of any information that could assist in our investigation," Tao reported. "They'd like to see this case closed as much as we would."

"They had nothing but good things to say about Officer Allen," Sykes stated. "It was always such a shock to them that he would be responsible for their daughter's death. She and Jason dated since high school and through college. They were expecting news of a wedding, not a death."

"Yes," Sharon agreed. "I imagine they were." She folded her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against Detective Sanchez's desk. "Alright. We'll proceed with the warrant for Ms. Allen's records, Lieutenant Tao, pull everything you can on Sarah Leslie and her relationship with Martin Riley. He was out of town the night of the shooting, but there could be clues there. I want to review her financial records again, and while we're at it, let's review those of the Allen family. We'll see if there is anything there which could lend itself toward a drug addiction. Prescription pain killers are rather expensive when bought on the street, if they weren't prescribed, there should be some indication in their financial records that Ms. Allen was spending large amounts of money." She turned to Provenza. "I'd like for us to follow up on Jason. We'll pull his records, trace his whereabouts for that week, leading up to and immediately after the shooting. Then I'd like to check up on what he's been doing since. I don't want to rule him out yet. He was lying, as was his father. Time to find out why."

The team dispersed to their assignments, and Sharon returned to her office. She sent a text to Rusty. It was looking as though it would be another long day. She wanted him prepared to either join the team for dinner, or fend for himself once more. Afterward, Sharon took her computer and joined the team in the conference room. They would begin dissecting the activities of the Allen family again and in more detail.

By late afternoon the team had laid out every facet of the Allen family's history and activities leading up to the night of the shooting. Michael Allen's personnel file was released, and they had added his service record to the information laid out before them. Every commendation, note, and award was now part of the evidence of the Sarah Leslie murder. There were not, as they knew, any citations or reprimands in his file. It all added to the overall feeling of wrongness to his incarceration during the last three years of his life.

The arrival of DDA Emma Rios heralded the arrival of their warrant for Mrs. Allen's medical records, although her appearance further soured Lieutenant Provenza's already _cheerful_ attitude. "I asked for Hobbs," he muttered, glaring at her. "I know it, because I distinctly sent the request directly _to_ DDA Hobbs myself. What are you doing here?"

By now, Emma had learned to simply smile sweetly, rather than rising to his bait. She dangled the warrant in front of him. "I knew that you were missing me. It's been a while, what with wrapping up my other obligations and cases. DDA Hobbs and I agreed that we shouldn't let you linger without my presence too much longer. You might start to… mold or something." Emma hitched a hip onto the edge of his desk. Her dark eyes sparkled brightly when his glower only darkened. Lieutenant Provenza hated things on his desk. Especially her. It made her almost giddy inside. "I am curious about one thing. At your _age_, Lieutenant, you must have a very interesting outlook about all of this. The way the law has changed and works. We should talk sometime. I bet I could learn a lot from all your… _vast_ experience."

His cheeks had gone ruddy. The indignation was pouring off the older Lieutenant in waves. So much so that the others were wisely turning away to hide their own amusement. Buzz had buried his face in his napkin, coughing almost violently in an attempt to hide his laughter. Sanchez had his lips pressed together so tightly, and was sitting so still, every muscle in his body almost ached. He stared at his computer screen. It wouldn't do to look at them again. His jaw throbbed at the force behind his clenched teeth.

"Emma." Provenza leaned toward her and beckoned her closer. "There are not enough years left in my life," he stated, thick voice rasping with irritation, "to make _you_ understand all the vast and interesting ways that this works." He said, gesturing around them.

Her head tilted. "I'm touched you would think about spending the last years of your very _long_ life trying to take me under your wing." His sniff, and the way his eyes narrowed made her smile widen.

Flynn snorted with laughter at that point. Then he cleared his throat loudly and leaned back in his seat. "Hey Rios, you ever been to the zoo?" He studied her, obviously amused, but his head tilted in question.

"Sure." She leaned back and turned a puzzled expression on the Lieutenant. "I prefer the ones down in San Diego, but the LA zoo is nice. Why?"

"You know the signs they have posted…" His dark eyes sparkled. "Don't poke the bear…" Flynn jerked his head toward Provenza. "I'm going to get you one for here."

She flashed a playful pout at that. "He started it. Besides, I think he's warming up to me."

"Of course I am." Provenza leaned over and snatched the warrant out of her hands. "Hell is also freezing over right as we speak."

"You know," Emma remarked, "I've heard Texas has had some ice storms this year." She slid off the desk when the Captain appeared from her office. "You have your warrant. Or rather, Grumpy Bear has the warrant. It's very specific, you can only request those medical records which pertain directly to her drug treatment, and only those from directly prior to and since the shooting."

"Hm." Sharon looked around the room, tilted her head. "Thank you Emma, I'm sure we all appreciate your taking time out of your busy day to deliver that personally."

"Oh yeah, we appreciate it alright." Provenza stood up and jerked his jacket off the back of his desk. "Come on Flynn. Let's go deal with this hospital. Sykes, you're with us. _You_ I can teach."

"Since I think there was a compliment in there somewhere…" Amy stood up and slipped her jacket on. She followed the outwardly laughing Flynn. He was the only one in the murder room who had the temerity to laugh outright at the exchange between Provenza and Rios.

"I have a meeting with Captain Oliver down in Narcotics," Emma followed them out. "Call me if you need anything…"

The moment they were gone, Sanchez folded in on himself, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "¡Creo que realidad le gusta!"

Sharon chuckled quietly. "Lo contrario del amor no es el odio, es la indiferencia." Both Sanchez's and Buzz's heads whipped around. Their jaws dropped, but the Captain simply sauntered around the murder room, and to her computer which had been set up on a vacant desk. She sat, and her hair was pulled over one shoulder while she turned her attention back to the data on her screen. "Close your mouth, Detective. That's not a very attractive look for you."

Julio's mouth snapped shut with an audible click from his jaw. He tried to turn his attention back to the reports on his desk, but he just kept glancing back over at the Captain. Had they known she could speak the language? Not fluently, surely. He had detected a couple of mistakes, but well enough that she had parroted back at him, easily. He shot a glance in Buzz's direction. The tech had his head down, and was trying very hard to give the appearance of work. They exchanged a look. How many times had they made comments, thinking that _no one_ would be able to understand them. They were wrong, it seemed, at least in part. Julio shook his head and picked up his pen again. He shot another surreptitious glance toward their Captain. Well, damn. They'd never stood a chance. He grinned and shook his head. A thought suddenly occurred and had him looking up, almost sharply. "_You_ called Rios."

The almost tremble in her lips, the way the corners of her mouth twitched, just once when she looked up at him gave her away. It was the only hint, however, when she arched a brow at him and said, calmly, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Detective."

Julio found he was clenching his jaw again, another attempt at not laughing. "Yes ma'am."

She waited until his head was bowed over his desk again. Sharon tapped a finger against the edge of her laptop. "I did, however, speak with DDA Hobbs…" She had phoned back, intent on sending the warrant by courier as she had a meeting and would not be able to join them. Sharon might have dropped a comment or two.

"The moral of the story is…" Tao had remained silent, as was his way. Now, however, he took the Captain's opening for what it was. "The Captain always gets even. Remember that, Julio."

"Yes, that's true," Sharon smirked, without looking up again. "Although, in this instance, I was simply attempting to help bridge the gap between our division and the DA's office. We have to work with them, we should be able to do so with… civility." She pressed her lips together, fought the urge to clear her throat. She was getting even. She had known that Provenza would take Flynn with him once they had the warrant. If he was riled, well… Sharon shifted her collar, making sure the marks on her neck were still hidden. It was just the first installment of what Flynn had coming to him.

"Of course Captain." Tao wasn't convinced. None of them were.

"Back to work, gentlemen. I don't want to be here all night…" Sharon pushed her amusement aside and focused on the case again.

Julio shook his head again. The bubble of laughter remained, and although he didn't let it escape, his eyes crinkled at the corners and a slight smile continued to play at his lips. While his eyes tracked through the report he was putting together about Jason Allen's activities for the last few years, his mind turned to another item. He was really regretting ever having let Flynn talk him out of that beanbag. He wondered if there was any chance at getting it back. The Lieutenant couldn't resist a good bet… or, maybe… Julio risked a glance at the Captain and pressed his lips together to further suppress his smile. Maybe they'd get a chance for her to use that gun again. This time, no amount of anyone's begging was going to talk him out of _his_ souvenir.


	4. Chapter 4

Unconditionally - Chapter 4

by Kadi

Rated M

* * *

"_I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, _

_there can be no more hurt, only more love.__" _

—_Mother Theresa_

The more information that the team unraveled about the Allen family, the more unlikely the original murder charges became. They had not, yet, found any irrefutable proof that Michael Allen was innocent, but it was looking as though it would happen at any moment. They had uncovered the painful secret of Susan Allen's addiction. It had started innocently enough, and while the car accident from four years ago was common knowledge, what no one had known was that Officer Allen's wife had become addicted to the pain medication which had been necessary during her recovery. It was all such a sad, sorry affair.

Allen's wife had just gotten out of rehab prior to the death of Sarah Leslie, it was hidden under the cover of further physical rehabilitation, but the release of her medical records had lain truth to the real cause of her hospitalization. More than anything, it just highlighted for everyone how little they really knew about their colleagues once the day was over.

Well, for some of them anyway.

Andy felt that he knew enough, and what he didn't know he was enjoying learning. For instance, when Sharon let him into the condo that evening and immediately turned away, he knew it wasn't a dismissal. The phone was pressed to her ear, but there was a warm greeting in her gaze. His eyes followed her movement back through the condo, and the way she detoured through the living room to knock Rusty's feet off the coffee table, while he sat with his laptop in his lap on the sofa. He watched, with a barely suppressed smile, when she pointed a finger at the grumbling teenager before moving into the kitchen. They had pulled a couple of late nights at the office already, and since they were planning on bringing Jason Allen back in the next day, they'd cut out at a decent hour. That meant the team was enjoying _not_ working through dinner. Andy dropped onto the sofa beside Rusty and let his hands fall loosely into his lap. "Hey kid."

"Hey." He waited for Sharon to move into the kitchen, her back to them and her attention back on the conversation. Then Rusty grinned and put his feet back on the coffee table.

Andy snorted quietly. "You're asking for it."

"Maybe." Rusty turned his attention back to his laptop. "Ricky," he answered the silent question. "Sounds like he finally made a decision about what to do with his fellowship thing."

"Ah." The two shared a look, and while Rusty continued his online chess game, Flynn reached for the remote and turned on the evening's sports highlights. In the kitchen he could hear Sharon talking to her son while she got dinner started. Early in their relationship he would have joined her. Now, he knew better. One did not disturb Sharon in her kitchen. Unless you wanted to get shot.

It was almost half an hour before Sharon appeared again. She found the two presently prominent men in her life engrossed in a movie. They might not agree on sports, but they did agree on explosions. She took a moment to just study them before she realized they both had their feet on the coffee table. "Really?"

"What?" They looked at her, the feigned innocence in their expressions almost identical.

Sharon's eyes narrowed. She walked over and placed the phone back in its cradle before she folded her arms over her chest and looked, pointedly, at their feet. Her brow arched when they did not immediately move. "Would you like to lose them?"

"If we were at my place," Flynn pointed out to the kid. "We could use the coffee table for what it was created for." He pointed. "Foot rest."

"True." Rusty's head inclined. "But we're not at your place."

"Nope."

The boy and the man sighed as they took their feet down, then turned their gazes back on her. Their brows lifted, as though both were asking, _happy now_?

Sharon smiled, pleased. "Thank you." She wondered, idly, if she was letting Rusty spend too much time with with the guys from the squad - particularly Flynn and Provenza. She could see where their personalities had started to influence his. He was such a sponge, still so young and impressionable, despite having turned eighteen. Although, she supposed there were worse ways in which he could be influenced, less appropriate candidates he could choose to imitate.

"What's for dinner," Rusty barely glanced up again, only just long enough to ask the question before his nose was buried back in the game.

"Baked chicken for us," she walked over and lowered herself into one of the wide arm chairs near the sofa. Sharon curled her legs beneath her. "Rice pilaf, roasted potatoes, steamed broccoli and salad." She always added an extra vegetable dish when Andy was with them, in deference to his preferences. "Have you finished your homework?"

"Yes. Even the completely redundant and unnecessary math." Rusty looked up and gave her a crooked grin. "I was finished with it hours ago."

"I see." Her head inclined. "In that case, you've had plenty of time to relax. Now you can clean your room."

Rusty groaned. "Really, Sharon? But dinner…"

"Will be a while yet." She gave him an affectionate grin. "Room. Now. Please."

He closed the laptop and stood. "I can't believe you're making me clean on an empty stomach. I could pass out or something."

Sharon pressed her lips tightly together to prevent the smile, but her eyes were dancing with amusement. "That would be bad, but I think it would be equally terrible if you were to end up spending all of Saturday cleaning it instead of doing something enjoyable. Don't you?"

"I'm going. Not because you win, but because I agree that would really suck," Rusty pointed out.

"Of course." Sharon watched him retreat down the hall and chuckled quietly after his door had closed.

"Teenager logic," Flynn mused. "They refuse to acknowledge you've won, even when it's obvious." He reached over for the remote and paused the movie. "How was the other one." The way her eyes lit, filling with warmth and joy at the thought of her other children never failed to touch him. Andy enjoyed watching her face soften with maternal happiness. He mused that her reputation would be shot to hell if anyone could see her the way that he did.

"Ricky is good." She rested her chin in her hand, supported by her elbow resting against the arm of the chair. "He finally decided on his fellowship. He's coming home." Sharon was almost giddy at the thought. She had supported her children in their dreams. They'd gone thousands of miles away in the name of education and opportunities. Her daughter was dancing in New York, and Rick had gone to school at first in Illinois at Northwestern, and then in Texas at Baylor College of Medicine. "He'll be at Cedars in a few months. He's going to come out in a few weeks and look for a place to live."

Andy's dark eyes lit with mischief. "Well, you could give him the condo and move in with me." His brows bobbed. "That would make it easier."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, and you could give him the bungalow and move in with me, but I don't see that happening either." She pushed up from the chair to walk back to the kitchen.

"Let's think about this logically," Andy followed her. "Give up the bungalow on the beach, or the downtown condo. My idea is obviously better." He caught her before she made it to the kitchen and drew her back. His arms circled her; one hand moved to rest against her ribcage, just beneath the soft weight of her breasts. The other splayed loosely against her stomach. He turned his smiling face into her neck and nosed her hair aside to nuzzle her neck.

"That's what you'd like to believe." She sighed when his lips moved from her hairline to the soft skin behind her ear. "So long as you're happy in your imaginary land, hmm… that's all that matters. _Andy_…" She drew a sharp breath when his teeth grazed her ear. "I'm cooking and Rusty…"

"Is doing as he was told and cleaning his room." He turned her around and backed her into the kitchen where he lifted her onto the counter. "Dinner isn't anywhere near done yet, and I've been wanting to do this all day." His hands slid into the thick curtain of her hair and cupped her head, holding it in place when he slanted his mouth over hers. During the day she belonged to the squad, to the department. The evenings were his. He might have to share them with Rusty, but when she melted against him, as she was now, he had no doubt that she longed for the quiet sanctuary they found within these walls, or within his.

Andy ended the kiss, only to let his lips trail across her jaw. They were soft when they brushed her cheek, and then her forehead, and finally the tip of her nose. When he leaned back, his arms dropped, only to loop lazily around her hips. "Hi."

Her arms draped loosely across his shoulders. Sharon smiled and let her forehead rest against his. "Hi," she murmured back. She lifted a hand to trace the familiar planes of his face. It was still amazing just how much he had come to mean to her in such a short time. "I know you came for dinner, how do you feel about breakfast?"

"Hussy." He grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth again. "You make better coffee than I do. I wouldn't dream of going home."

"On the downside," she said, laughter tinging her words, "your neighbors are going to forget what you look like."

"They're old." He smirked. "We're lucky they remember their own names." Andy stepped back and lifted her off the counter. He set her back on her feet and moved to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He settled at the bar to watch her, since that was neutral territory. "What's the kid think about it, you know, _big brother_ coming home."

She cut a look at him, one that any other individual might have cowered from. "If you are referring to Rusty and his feelings regarding Richard, and the possibility of his move back to Los Angeles, he was fine with it. We are beyond that level of insecurity, Andy." She paused in piling red potatoes into a strainer to be rinsed and looked at him. "More or less."

Andy snorted at her. "Uh huh." He slanted a look at her, brow lifting. "Which one is it."

"More." Sharon shrugged. "I think. I'm fairly certain. He's okay with the idea of it, but the reality will be different. We never know how we'll react to the reality of a situation until it arrives. They've met, and they seemed to get along fairly well when Ricky was here at Thanksgiving."

"When Ricky was leaving again in a few days," Flynn pointed out with a smile. It was quite the switch for them. Him as the reasonable one, her as the optimistic dreamer. "It's just been the two of you, with a few exceptions, and he adapted okay to that… but, you know how the kid is, Sharon."

"_Was_." Sharon said. She finished rinsing the potatoes and moved to the counter with them. She stood directly opposite Flynn while she began slicing them into fourths for roasting. "Andy, I'm not wearing blinders here. You know me better than that. Rusty has been through a lot, and in the face of overwhelming odds, he has come out of it stronger and on better terms than I could have hoped. I understand the dynamics, and the insecurities, and the awkwardness that he might feel having one of my kids back here on a more permanent basis, but you know… I think by now he's come to realize that he's one of them. Ricky is also going to have a very busy schedule, he's going to be working a lot of long hours, it isn't as though we'll be seeing him everyday. I choose to believe that everything will be fine."

The corners of his mouth twitched toward a smile. "Because you refuse to accept anything less."

"Exactly." She flashed a bright smile at him. Sharon arranged the potatoes in a glass baking dish. "I love my boys, but I expect them to behave like the adults they are. They will learn to get along, or they will be dealing with me." She looked up at him again, amusement had turned her eyes to deep pools of emerald. "If that fails, I'll leave them alone with Isabelle. Threats of tights and leotards should properly adjust their attitudes."

"Hm." Andy rested his chin in his hand and thought about it. "That could be construed as cruel and unusual punishment. Grounding by ballerina." His lips pursed. "Could we use it on Provenza?"

She chortled. "That would be the day. It's probably best that we don't. I would be tempted to have Isabelle video the event so that I could use it in the future. It's not a temptation I could resist. Best not tempt me at all." Sharon took spices down from the rack and began mixing them together into a small bowl. "We've finally found an acceptable balance. I don't want to jeopardize it anymore than _this_," she gestured between them, "is likely to do."

"I wouldn't worry about that," he told her, and not for the first time. "The only person my partner is likely to be upset at about us is me. He knows my track record, and, oddly, I think he likes you better."

"Well, yes." Sharon smiled sweetly at him. "Of course he likes me better. What isn't to like."

"Since this is one of those questions that can get me in trouble," Andy slipped off his stool. "I'm going back to the movie." Not before rounding the bar and dropping another kiss onto her lips.

"Now see, who said you couldn't be taught." Sharon smirked at his retreating back. "To think, you thought starting a relationship at this side of fifty would be a problem."

"Witch." Andy made a face at her, since they both knew that the reservations had come from _her_ side of the equation. "Just for that…" He got comfortable on the sofa and allowed his feet to once again find a resting place on the coffee table.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable there if I were you," Sharon warned. "In fact, I wouldn't get too comfortable this evening at all, if I were you."

There was something suddenly ominous in her tone. Andy cast a look back, almost puzzled. He found her staring at him over the tops of her glasses. She had pulled her hair over her shoulder, as was her habit, a habit that he happened to adore. When her fingers brushed the side of her neck, just under her collar, he wondered if it would get him shot to grin. He never actually meant to mark her, but damn that sensitive, fair skin of hers. It would bruise or redden at just the slightest touch. There was a dark promise that went beyond mischief in her gaze. He tilted his head at her and arched a brow. "Sorry?"

"Yes," She said simply. "You are going to be _very_ sorry, Lieutenant."

Andy flinched. Now he knew that he was in trouble. He scrubbed a hand over his face and into his hair. "I love you?"

"Hm." She turned back to her dinner tasks. "We'll see."

"Hell." Andy slumped down on the sofa. He was going to be in for it. Despite that, a little smile tugged at his mouth. He was tempted to pay the kid to go to bed early. When the dishtowel hit the back of his head, Andy had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing outright.

"Flynn. Feet. _Off_."

He made a slow, deliberate show of dropping his feet back to the floor. "Yes dear." The sound she made, the one that was half hum, half grunt, and only partial annoyance pushed his restraint completely aside. A wide grin curved his lips. He glanced back at her, and used the boyish half-pout that usually got him out of trouble.

Sharon rolled her eyes at him, yet again. She tossed her hair and turned away with a groan. The man was utterly impossible. Yet, she had known that going in. There were days when she was absolutely positive that if she didn't love him, she would have to shoot him. A lot.

"_You know you__'__re in love when _

_you don__'__t want to fall asleep because reality _

_is finally better than your dreams.__" _

— _Dr. Seuss_

It was much later, long after dinner had been consumed and its evidence cleaned, nearing the witching hour when Andy rolled over and found the bed beside him empty. The sheets were cool, indicating he'd been alone for good while. Andy ran a hand over his face, swept his fingers across his eyes and sat up. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched the sore muscles of his back and shoulders before rising. The plain white t-shirt he had worn to bed was still laying on the floor near the dresser, where it had been discarded. He pulled it on, along with the pajama pants which had joined it before slipping quietly out of the room.

Soft light glowed at the end of the hall, illuminating the living room. Andy sighed softly and rubbed his eyes again as he padded down the hall. He found Sharon where he expected to, at the dining table with her computer and two case files. She was making notes on a legal pad. Her hair was pulled back, piled high and secured in a clip. Gone was the flimsy blue robe she had teased him with earlier, after dinner, and in its place was a long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants.

"Hey." He laid his hands against her shoulders, and bent to kiss the top of her head. "Sharon, come to bed. You aren't going to solve this case sitting up with it all night."

"Hm." She leaned back, reached up with one hand to cover one of his where it was gently rubbing her shoulder. "I know. I couldn't sleep, I didn't want to wake you. Not that I really had to worry. You were pretty dead to the world." With her other, she took off her glasses and laid them on her notepad so that she could rub her tired eyes.

"I wonder why." He leaned down again and let his lips brush the side of her neck. "Come on, baby. All you're going to accomplish here is burning yourself out. We can't have that. We need you." Andy reached past her and closed first one file, and then the other. He slid one hand down her arm to her elbow and tugged, gently. He smiled when she rose, closing the laptop as she did. When she was on her feet, he turned her to face him and tipped her chin up. "You didn't miss anything. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

She sighed, and her shoulders fell. He knew her too well. "Andy, if I had been paying any attention at all…"

"Michael Allen would still be dead," he pointed out. "Sarah Leslie would still have been murdered. You were doing your job, Sharon. It was just another OIS, complete with confession, piled on top of a dozen other shootings that your team was investigating. You handed it off to your team while you focused on the more critical cases, which so happens to have been our squad at the time, but… you know we're high maintenance." His thumbs swept across her lips. "Michael Allen chose to make a false confession. You're good, sweetheart, but even you couldn't foresee that one."

"There's just something not right here, Andy. I can feel it. I can't put my finger on it, but I can _feel_ it." She went easily into his arms when he pulled her to him, and burrowed into the embrace. She found that she could fit so comfortably against him, and those strong arms could encompass her completely.

"I know." He had felt it too. They all had. This case had a sense of the not quite right which had them all a little on edge. It was hard to decipher if it was all just bad luck, or much darker. Finding out what, exactly, had happened in the Allen house that night was proving to be harder than they thought. "Don't let it own you. That way lies much badness."

"Yes." She stood in the circle of his arms for several long moments before finally leaning back. Her lips were soft against the point of his chin. The light was back in her eyes. He had, effectively, chased away her worries - for the moment at least. "Andy…" She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "Say it again. That whole, needing me thing, I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

He groaned. "Please, don't make it a big deal. We've trained you. We've figured out all your little quirks and issues. Please don't make us have to break in a new boss… _again_, or god forbid, Provenza." Andy leaned in closer to whisper, "He doesn't do paperwork."

"Oh. That's so sweet. It's Flynnish for… We like you. I'm touched." She fluttered her lashes at him.

"In the head, but yes, we like you anyway," he shot back with a crooked grin.

Sharon chuckled quietly. She reached up to cup his cheek. He was such a dear, in an absolutely impossible, infuriating, and sarcastic way. Her lips were soft against the corner of his mouth. "Andy, I would suggest taking me to bed before your mouth gets you in trouble."

"You always have the best ideas." He curled an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his side as they walked toward the hall. Once they'd reached the bedroom, and she had shed the yoga pants, Andy tucked her into bed beside him. He hissed quietly at the feel of her cold feet against his calves. "Damn woman…" She was always like an ice cube, or rather her feet were.

Sharon's soft laugh filled the silence in the room. She settled with her back against his chest and drew his arms tighter around her. It wasn't any wonder, given the nature of his quick, hot temper, that he would be an inferno all on his own. He was her personal heater. "If I can handle your snoring," she mumbled.

"Yes, yes… love you, love your feet. I know, you come packaged with ice cubes." He tucked his face into the crook of her shoulder, nosed her hair out of his way and pressed a soft kiss to her skin. "Sleep, Sharon."

"Hmm." Her eyes were already closed. "Yes sir."

"I could get used to that," He rumbled. His hand stroked up and down her side before settling against her stomach, beneath her shirt. He could feel her body growing slack beside him. Her responses were being reduced to hums and grunts. His thumb traced a lazy pattern against her stomach until he felt her breathing completely even out. It was only then that he closed his own eyes. Sleep would be a while in coming again, but he would enjoy the feel of his lover tucked against him until it came.


	5. Chapter 5

Unconditionally - Chapter 5

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

"_I will love the light for it shows_

_me the way, yet I will endure the_

_darkness because it shows me the stars.__"_

—_Og Mandino_

The scent of breakfast being prepared drew Rusty's attention when he stepped out of the shower the following morning. His stomach rumbled in response and he rushed through getting dressed. He tossed his things into his book bag and grabbed his shoes before hurrying down the hall. He dropped his bag on a chair, and his shoes beside it. It was the aroma of freshly made bacon that had his mouth watering. Sharon almost never made bacon, and certainly not when Flynn was around. How anyone could live life without meat was beyond him, but living life without _bacon_ that was just twisted. That alone gave Rusty reason to believe that Flynn was just weird.

He _was_ weird. In that way that all the guys on the squad were weird. It wasn't necessarily bad. It was just different. Or maybe, Rusty thought, _he_ was the one that was weird and they were all normal. It was really hard to say, and Rusty had given up on figuring it out a couple of years ago. They worried about things that Rusty never considered as important, they did things that Rusty had never seen people do before, and they were always _there_. So yes, Rusty figured that maybe he was the one that had the issue, but it was all good. He was still getting used to it in a lot of ways, but for the most part, Rusty was good with his life now.

When he turned around, he was surprised to find Flynn in the kitchen rather than Sharon. "Uh… okay." He walked toward the breakfast bar and slid onto a stool. "Where's Sharon?" Was it even weirder to find a vegetarian making breakfast that included meat? He watched the Lieutenant scoop the bacon onto a platter and frowned. "What are you doing?"

"It's called cooking." Andy's mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "It's that thing that people, mostly adults, do when they're hungry. It involves taking food and heating it to an appropriate temperature. I'm pretty sure that Sharon told me you're familiar with the process." He sat the platter on the bar and moved the bowl with the eggs beside it, along with a plate of toast.

"I thought you didn't eat meat," Rusty reached for a plate and began filling it. "You know, vegetarian." He smirked a bit.

"That doesn't mean I can't respect people who do." He leaned back against the opposite counter and lifted his coffee. "Sharon got an early call out. I'm supposed to make sure you get to school." It was Andy's turn to smirk. "Of course the fact that you're eighteen now and perfectly capable of getting yourself to school tends to slip her mind from time to time."

"There's also the fact that no one knows about you two and it would look pretty weird if you both showed up at the same time after _she_ was called." Rusty grinned crookedly around a bite of bacon.

"That too." Flynn sipped his coffee. "Still, she asked. Here I am."

"I don't think cooking was part of the deal." Rusty wasn't going to complain about that. "You don't have to cook for me, I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know." Flynn shrugged. "But, it makes Sharon feel better when you're taken care of. So there you have it." He pushed away from the counter and grabbed a piece of toast. "It's breakfast kid, don't read too far into it."

"Right." Rusty concentrated on his eggs for a few minutes. This entire _thinking about other people_ thing that he was trying to do, it wasn't always easy. Especially when he felt like he was being treated like a child. Although, he concede that wasn't the case here. So, to them, he was still a child, except he had seen and done things that made him more adult than he should ever have to be. Yeah, he got it. It didn't mean that he always _wanted_ to get it. The thing was, he was still pretty wary of the Lieutenant. Flynn was alright, when he was just Flynn. When it was Flynn with Sharon, that made things awkward and a little… Rusty wasn't sure, the only thing that he did know was that it was _different_.

He continued to think about that, while glancing at the man who was hanging around more and more often these days. Part of him wanted to protest. It wasn't that he didn't want Sharon to be happy, she was certainly happier these days, at least happier than she had been in the time he had known her. But it was odd. One day she was telling him that she was divorced - and when did she find time to do that, and _how_ did she find time to do that without him knowing about it? The woman was stealthy, that was for sure. The next thing he knew, there was Flynn, and Rusty realized he was being uncharitable. It wasn't as though the two things happened right on the heels of each other, but it felt that way sometimes. So they were _kind of_ dating, and then she was divorced, and now they were _really_ dating. Most of the time, Rusty just didn't want to think about it. Sharon was right, there were some things that were just none of his business, and this was one of them - at least in so much as he didn't want it to be any of his business. All he needed to know was that as long as she was smiling, and he didn't have to see any of it, everything was fine as far as he was concerned. When she stopped smiling, they'd have problems.

That thought had Rusty scowling, because really, he didn't want _that day_ to come. Experience taught him that it usually happened, but Rusty stopped equating his life with Sharon to life with his mother some time ago. They were two completely different situations, and honestly, he didn't want to compare Flynn to any of the guys his mother had dated. It wasn't fair. Flynn was good people; he might be grumpy, hot tempered, and a little _weird_ in that old person kind of way - but good people just the same. The thing was, good people could hurt others too.

Rusty pushed the eggs around on his plate and finally slanted a look at the Lieutenant. "How long are you planning to hang around, anyway?" He didn't mean it to sound so… well, disgruntled adolescent, but he figured he got his point across.

Ah, so there it was, Andy thought. They were finally to it after all. Flynn wondered if the kid would ever come across with it, but then he realized he shouldn't have. Other teenagers might have skulked around and not bothered, but they weren't Rusty. "Is that any of your business?" He shot it back at him with the same gruffness with which it had been asked.

Respect was a two way street, and he wasn't going to let the kid off the hook. Andy had always treated Rusty in the manner with which he expected to be treated in return. That wasn't going to stop just because he was with Sharon now. He could give the kid space, because he figured that he needed it, and because Sharon expected it. Flynn drew a line, however, when it came to simple courtesy and respect, and knew that Sharon supported that. Andy topped off his coffee and took a sip before he set about putting Sharon's kitchen back to rights. She'd have his hide if he left it this way.

Rusty's scowl deepened for just a moment. Then he sighed. "Okay. I probably could have worded that differently," he acknowledged. "You are like… _always_ here. You know… she gets kind of…" He struggled to find the right words, because as he'd learned from Sharon, words were power. How he said things to people, and how he behaved, it had an effect. That wasn't something he ever considered before, but he did now. He stabbed at a bite of egg and sighed again. "Used to people. She gets used to people. All of you treat her like she's… I don't know, and it's just…" He glared at the man in front of him. His cheeks flushed with his own inability to voice what needed to be said, and he hated that. Rusty truly _hated_ that he couldn't even do this one thing, because really, someone had to. "Just… don't turn out to be an asshole, okay?"

It would have been easy to be amused. Part of him was. Flynn figured he'd be able to chuckle about it later, but at the moment could see where the kid was coming from. It was something that he might have done himself, if their positions were reversed. They weren't, however, and if he expected the kid to be okay with the situation, then he needed to take him seriously. He did. How could he not? Rusty was trying to protect someone who had become very important to him. Just as Sharon protected him in any number of ways at any given moment on any day. Flynn shook his head and hid a smile behind his coffee mug, he wondered if he'd be having this conversation again in a few weeks when the _other_ son was in town. Honestly, she could not have picked a child that was more like her, in so many ways.

"I am an asshole." Flynn admitted with a shrug. "In more ways than we'll ever talk about. I can also be a mean tempered son of a bitch. Listen, kid…" He put the mug down and rested his hands against the top of the breakfast bar. He looked him in the eye and gave him the response that he deserved. "We don't set out to hurt the people we care about. It happens. We can say it never will, but you and I both know that's not how life works. I'm going to try _very hard_ not to, and that's all I can promise. But to answer your question… I'm going to be around until _she_ decides she doesn't want me around. And yeah, she gets used to people. Kind of like she got used to you." He punctuated the statement with a pointed look. "So… don't be an asshole."

A small smile pushed past all the awkward squirming that he was doing. Rusty shook his head. "I'm not… I don't… Yeah okay." His shoulders slumped. "Okay, I get it. We're both in a position to be a couple of real jerks. Eventually, I do have to leave, she gets that right?" He felt almost as panicked by it as he looked, and affixed a wide-eyed look on the man in front of him. The thought of leaving made him sick to his stomach, but it was going to happen at some point. The _when_ was pretty foggy, but even when he tried to leave before, he hadn't really wanted to. He just thought it would be easier to leave Sharon, rather than have her send him away when she realized who he really was. Now that he was on this side of that situation, he realized how stupid it was.

Andy's eyes narrowed. "I think that depends on what you mean." The conversation was quickly nearing a gray area that was sending off warning bells, practically sirens, in his head. Andy leaned closer over the edge of the bar and studied the boy. "No one is asking you to leave. Rusty, if this is bothering you…" He gestured vaguely with his hand. "Then maybe it's something that you, and I, and Sharon need to sit down and talk about." That thought made him slightly ill, but if the kid was so unsettled by it that he was thinking of pulling a runner, now when they couldn't stop him, then Sharon needed to be made aware.

"What?" Rusty blinked. "What are you—no." He leaned back, hands in front of him. "Oh no. No, no, _no_." He shook his head, almost frantically. "We are never discussing _that_. Not ever. I don't want to know, I don't need to know. You two can leave me out of whatever you do, don't do, or want to do. I mean, yeah, if you turn into an asshole and hurt her, I'm going to get one of the other guys to kick your ass, probably Julio because I'm pretty sure that he could take you - and would, but no. God no!" Rusty snorted, and almost laughed. "I'm talking about the fact that I'm not really a kid anymore. At some point, I have to like, go and actually have a life. That is the reason she's been all manic about making sure I stayed alive. Please tell me that I'm not going to wake up in five years and realize that I'm _that_ guy. The one that still lives at home with his mother and drives an electric smart car, and never does _anything_."

It was all said in such a rush that it took Andy a moment to decipher all of the words. Finally, he tilted his head and closed his eyes. It was part relief, and part… well… how did he end up in these situations anyway? "You're one weird kid, you know that right?" Andy's fingers rubbed his forehead, and he sighed. "I think this is a conversation you need to have with Sharon, but I doubt she plans on having you live with her forever. She's a big fan of the college experience. I also don't think she's ready for you to take flight and leave the nest, but I get the feeling you're not ready for that either. So if you think that you being around here is an issue, it's really not. I know it isn't for Sharon, obviously. As for me?" Andy shrugged. "She's a packaged deal. So don't sweat it, kid."

"Right." Rusty wasn't sure that he felt relieved, exactly. Instead, he shoved several bites into his mouth and concentrated on the mechanics of chewing. He could say that he didn't know why his place suddenly felt so tenuous, but that was a lie. He knew exactly why. Everything was changing, and quickly. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. He stabbed another bite, but hesitated in shoving it in his mouth. Rusty glanced up after a moment. "What if _he_ doesn't like us?"

There it was again, another possible land mine. Flynn considered it for a moment. Along with the question of why he was elected for this conversation, but he supposed it was part of the package. He picked up his coffee mug again and studied it's contents before taking a long sip. This was a Provenza and Rusty conversation, if the kid didn't want to talk to Sharon about it. He had to tread carefully, if he said the wrong thing, he'd have two people attempting to burn his hide. "This is the Ricky thing." He said it, both to buy himself some more time, and to make sure they were on the same page this time. When Rusty nodded, he sighed. "I was afraid of that." He put the mug down again. "Okay, look, here's the thing. We've got to trust Sharon. She knows her heart and what she wants. You and I both know that she's not easily influenced by the opinions of others, not when she's got her heels dug in. So, yeah, I get where you're coming from. Rusty, I'm not saying that you can't talk to me about these things, but _this_, that's something you really have to talk to Sharon about. I know you probably don't want to, but feeling like you do, that's probably the most normal situation that the two of you have been in since all this started. She's going to want to know about it, not because it's going to change anything. It's just…" He shrugged, at a loss. "It's a Sharon thing. Okay?"

"Yeah." Rusty leaned his chin in his hand and heaved a sigh. "Girls."

"No kidding." Andy dumped the rest of his coffee and rinsed the cup. He needed to finish cleaning up. "Between the two of us, and just between you and me… you've got the easier end of the deal. New little brother wins out over new boyfriend any day of the week."

Rusty snorted at that. "True. So in other words, I've got it made and you're screwed. I can deal with that."

"I figured as much. But thanks, kid. You're all heart." He scraped the last of the dishes, and would let Rusty deal with his own. He placed it all in the dishwasher and dried his hands. "Finish up. I'll give you a ride on my way to the station."

"I have a car…" Rusty shook his head and finished eating, quickly, so that he could slide his plate into the dish drawer with the others. He shook his head and headed over to get his shoes on.

"I know." Flynn clipped his badge onto his belt, and then his gun, before shrugging into his jacket. "But Sharon doesn't want you driving it until it's been serviced, and since it's not that big a deal, we'll let her have this one."

"Kind of like we usually let her have them all?" Rusty glanced up from tying his shoes to smirk at him.

"Something like that." He fixed his cuffs and slipped his phone into his pocket, along with his wallet. Then he palmed his keys. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Rusty picked up his bag and walked toward the door. "So, she's got you cooking, cleaning, and playing chauffeur. She could at least make an honest guy out of you."

"Hey, don't mess with my mojo kid." Flynn put a hand on his shoulder and propelled him through the door.

"Oh. Is that what you call it?" Rusty snickered. "You're in so much trouble."

"You still think you're a comedian…" Andy locked the door behind them. "You know, turn about is fair play. Let's talk about _your_ mojo and what you're calling it these days…"

"Nice try. I just think that if you're going to be playing errand boy, you should be getting something out of it." Rusty continued to smirk.

"Oh, believe me. I am." Andy had the satisfaction of watching the smirk fade. That was what they called a ground double to left center. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

"Gross." Rusty picked up his pace and hurried ahead. "Seriously gross dude."

"Hey," he shrugged. "You wanted to know. So let's talk about it…"

"No, I'm good. It's okay. So… how about those Angels."

"Oh god." Andy groaned. It was like a physical pain. "Dodgers kid, do you not know anything? Provenza is falling down on the job. Okay, so this is how this is going to work…" He made a mental note to deal with his partner, and his lack of baseball teaching skills, at some later time. For the moment, the kid had catching up to do… and it had the added bonus of getting them away from certain uncomfortable topics.

Flynn managed to make it to the office only half an hour later than he should have been there. He strolled into the murder room carrying a tray of coffees, and one tea. He stopped at his desk and spread the pile of reports waiting for him. It was going to be another joyful day of paperwork that probably wouldn't get done, depending on how their current case went.

"Oh look who it is." At his own desk, Provenza leaned back in his seat. He cast a narrow-eyed gaze at his partner and managed, just narrowly, to not sneer. "Lieutenant Andrew Flynn, so glad you could finally join us. Tell me, what is it about the act of getting to work _on time_ that you find so difficult. The rest of us managed to be here, quite a bit before our shifts began, I might add. Yet, here you are… late, and with a sorry attempt at a bribe."

"Then I guess you don't want this? Hey, Nelson…" He called toward the patrol cop that was assigned to their floor. "How do you feel about double shot—"

"Now let's not be hasty." Provenza stood up and walked over, snatching the coffee before it could be given away. "I said it was a sorry excuse for a bribe, not that I wasn't going to take it." He shook his finger at Flynn, "Getting coffee does not excuse bad manners."

"Yeah, I figured." Andy sat the tray on his desk and, his tone dry. "It must be why you never bother to bring any." He stepped back so the others could pick up their cups and let his hands rest against his belt. "What did I miss?"

"You would know if you had been here," Provenza pointed out.

"And if I had been here, I wouldn't have missed it," he shot back. "I had an errand to run. I cleared it with my boss, who, as it so happens, isn't you."

Provenza's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I just bet you did." He turned away and returned to his desk.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Andy's brows drew together. The point was for his partner to _figure it out_, but there was only so much his patience could stand, particularly given the current attitude that was being shoved in his face - and having dealt with morning traffic between Saint Josephs and the station. It was no wonder Sharon had turned driving the kid over to Patrol at one point, that was a nightmare.

"Oh, I think you know." The older man regained his seat and leaned back. It was difficult, suppressing the smile. Especially now that he had him pretty much where he wanted him. The others were getting their coffee and scrambling. That was rather amusing too. Well, Tao and Buzz had scrambled, Sykes looked entirely too interested and Julio was rarely bothered by their grumbling matches.

In fact, he chose to interrupt it before it could get too heated. "Jason Allen was a no-show," Sanchez explained. "The Captain called Hobbs, we don't have enough to book him, so no warrant. We're about to roll out and see if we can _convince_ him to come in to answer our questions." He pushed up from his desk and walked around to get his coffee and the Captain's tea. "I offered to go see him alone, but the Captain doesn't like it when I piss people off until they get violent. I don't think she wants them messing up my pretty face." He snatched up the tea and flashed a wide grin before turning to walk toward her office.

"It's good that he has dreams," Andy remarked with a smirk. "It shows he isn't getting jaded. Like some others I can name."

"And he manages to get to work on time," Provenza muttered.

"Captain," Julio pushed open her door and held the tea up to get her attention. "Lieutenant Flynn has joined us. I think we're ready ma'am."

She glanced up from the report on her desk and beyond Julio. Through the glass, she could see him speaking to Provenza, and from the body language of both detectives, it didn't look like a completely pleasant conversation. That was to be expected, she knew that the older Lieutenant had plans for his partner. He was going to enjoy giving him grief until he finally decided to reveal what he knew, and how much he knew. She allowed a small smile, and covered it under the guise of greeting the detective at her door.

"Thank you, Detective Sanchez." She rose from her seat and joined him, accepting the tea as they both walked back through the murder room. "Lieutenant Flynn, good morning." She stopped, shy of the white board and waited for the two men to conclude their argument and grumble in acknowledgement to her presence. "Now that we're all here, I'm afraid that we didn't get the start on the day that we were planning. Jason Allen failed to keep his appointment with us this morning, therefore, we're sending teams out to pick him up. Lieutenant Tao and Detective Sykes, I'd like you to check the treatment facility and speak with Mrs. Allen. Find out if he's visited since we were there yesterday, and if she has any idea to his whereabouts. Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza will be going to Mr. Allen's place of employment. Let's see if maybe the appointment just slipped his mind." She suppressed a smile when both of them snorted. "Detective Sanchez is with me, we're going to the Allen home."

From the corner of her eye, Sharon saw Andy straighten. His brows drew together in a frown while his eyes darkened. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. She shared a look with Sanchez who nodded. They worked together more sparingly than the others, and Sharon was attempting to curb her habit of limiting her field work to accompanying Flynn or Provenza. Andy just didn't like sharing her, especially when he would be stuck with his grumpy partner, who was feeling grumpier than usual. Sharon suppressed another smile. Next time he left a mark on her body that was, in any way, visible, she would remind him of this day.

"If there are no questions," she continued, "I suggest that we get to it."

"Come on, Flynn." Provenza stood up and took his jacket from the back of his chair. "If we get started now, you might get somewhere at a time resembling the vicinity of prompt."

Flynn looked skyward as he followed and prayed for patience.

Sharon smiled as they left and turned to Sanchez. "Detective, I'll join you in a moment." She took her tea back to her office where she retrieved her own jacket and clipped her gun onto her belt. It took only a few seconds before she was meeting Sanchez at the exit to the murder room.

"_A true friend never gets in your way,_

_unless you happen to be going down.__"_

— _Arnold H. Glasow_

Provenza rarely let him drive. That should have been his first clue that something else was amiss, something beyond a grumpier than usual mood. Andy bit his tongue and continued to ask for patience as his partner complained about everything that could possibly be complained about. The air conditioning in the car was too cold, then it wasn't cold enough. Andy was driving too fast, and then he was crawling through traffic like a grandpa. They hit every light between the station and the coastal toll. Then traffic on the toll was too heavy, and he should have gone another way. When Andy pulled off the toll road, and travelled toward the docks where Jason Allen worked, using an alternate route, his partner complained about that as well.

By the time they reached the place where Allen worked, Andy was holding the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip and his teeth were clenched so tightly that his jaw ached. It was taking every ounce of self control that he possessed not to react to the vitriol that was being spouted off every few moments. Andy had never been so happy to get out of a vehicle in his entire life, only to listen to Provenza grumble about how far away they'd parked. Flynn had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for his gun.

Once inside, he followed Provenza to the front desk. They asked for Allen, and then had to wait while he was tracked down, only to find out he had not turned up at work that morning. Jason had called in, which was no great surprise.

When they got back into the car, it was to listen to his partner complain that they could have just called ahead. There was no reason for the car to get hot, again, if they hadn't even been able to speak to the suspect. Andy rolled his eyes skyward and pulled away from the docks.

"…That is the reason that phones were created. What is the point in having one if you don't use it. Push a few numbers, say a few words, and we could still be sitting in the comforts of our own desk chairs right now."

Andy shook his head. "Yeah." He made a point of steering them past the tollway. He didn't want to revisit that conversation again.

"Well, let's just hope the rest of the team is having better luck. Although the chances of that were probably lowered by the late start we got." He shot another sour look at Flynn. Inwardly, Provenza smirked. Andy was gripping the steering wheel again. A year ago, he would have been growling right back at him, working toward a good fit of temper, if he hadn't already lost it. "We should call Sanchez and the Captain, see if they've found the suspect yet. Doubtful."

Flynn heaved a sigh and stared straight ahead. Of course, if Sharon and Sanchez had found Jason Allen, they would have already called. That they hadn't was more telling. He resettled his grip on the steering wheel and came to a stop at a red light. "I could point out, the team didn't have to wait for me. I had a prearranged errand. I could have met you at LSI."

Provenza grunted. "Right. Prearranged, in that it was never mentioned before this morning. Remind me to get you a dictionary when we get back. I think you need some help with your words."

"No more than you need help controlling your mood swings," he fired back, finally having had enough. Flynn shook his head, again, and waited for the light to change color. "I know you find it hard to believe, but you are not actually the center of the universe. My life does not revolve around you. There are entire parts of it that have nothing to do with you."

"Of course not," Provenza flashed a nasty smirk at him. "That would be the Captain's job. Idiot."

Flynn shot a look at him. "Look—"

"No, you look." He shook a finger at him. "I told you, a hundred times, to leave it alone. I told you to stay away from her. Obviously you've decided to be reckless and stupid, since you did the exact opposite of that. Don't try to look surprised, as if I don't know what's going on right under my own nose. Suddenly you're showing up late to work, at the same time the Captain is going out of her way to assign both of you to other partners, whereas this time last year you would have been joined at the hip. Disgustingly enough, you're still joined at the hip, just not professionally. You are an idiot. Only this time, your stupidity isn't going to blow up in your face alone. It's going to blow up in all of our faces, not to mention Rusty _and_ the Captain. For crying out loud, have you _lost_ your mind! She's your boss! That's Darth Raydor that we're talking about. The Wicked Witch of Internal Affairs. It wasn't so long ago that _you_ were the one drawing green faced illustrations of her Darthness. Now you're — I don't even want to _think_ about what you are. It's not just absurd, it's insane. Pulling a stunt like this, at your age. I'd call it a midlife crisis, but you're too old for that. Instead, I'm convinced you've gone both senile and delusional."

Andy ground his teeth together. He couldn't really argue a lot of that. Provenza was right, it wasn't so long ago that he was leading the _Down with Raydor_ cheer squad, although at the same time, it _felt_ like a lifetime ago. The thing was, when he stopped running his mouth and started paying attention, he was able to look beyond the position that she held to just see _her_. It started around the time that he was attacked and found out that she was investigating him. He threw a lot of attitude at Sharon during that incident, and she had taken it. Now that he thought about it, she had taken a lot of gruff off of all of them. She hadn't fought back or busted them down when she could have, she had saved that for Chief Johnson.

What none of the rest of the team knew, because Andy had never told anyone, was that after it was all said and done, the Captain had checked on him. She wanted to make sure that the investigation, closed though it was, had not impeded his recovery, and to explain again that looking into the allegations was simply procedure. A formality. They had to review them all, and given Andy's rank, position, and reputation she had taken on the investigation herself, instead of handing it off to her team as she normally did. Andy would never forget his complete astonishment at seeing her at his door. After that, it was hard to see her as only a coldhearted witch. That wasn't to say that he had liked her, but he started paying attention, and grew to respect her.

It was true, she could still tempt his temper, and she was annoying as all hell. It was the nature of the job, and the division between their departments. It was the nature of them, if he was completely honest about it. They still had a habit of pushing each other's buttons, they'd just found other ways of smoothing out the upsets. Andy wasn't a blind man, somewhere along the way, he saw enough of Sharon to realize she was a beautiful woman, and it wasn't until she came to Major Crimes that he was able to acknowledge that yes, he liked her.

Another sigh passed his lips. Andy shook his head. He really started thinking he wasn't the only one. "I thought you'd gotten past all that," he said. "I thought you liked her?"

"Just because I can admit that she is remotely human," Provenza snarked, "does not mean that I, in anyway, _like_ the woman. Good god man, mind your tongue!" He shook his finger at his partner. "That's your insanity speaking. It's madness, absolute madness. I don't _like _anyone! I tolerate a select few."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Pardon me," he said dryly. "I had forgotten." He pulled the car onto a side lane and cut through an alley to reach the next avenue that would take them back to the station. "Are you done? I only want to have this conversation the once, so get it all out," he waved a hand at Provenza, as though granting permission. "After that, we're never discussing it again."

"Oh no," Provenza grinned, although it was not an entirely pleasant expression. "_You_ do not get to lay down terms. No, no, no, my friend. He who has gone over to the dark side does not make demands, give conditions, nor express displeasure." He settled back in his seat and laid his hands against his stomach. His finger tips tapped together, almost gleefully. "Especially not when he of the dark side leaves visual representations of his dark descent into madness." Provenza slanted a look to his left. "You're both just lucky it was me that spotted it and not, oh, I don't know… Taylor."

"Hell." Flynn huffed an exasperated sigh and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "That's probably true, but you know, here's the thing… Taylor knows." He glanced over. "This thing with Sharon, it's not… it isn't a temporary situation. It's not a fling. Sharon reported us when it became obvious to us that it wasn't just… well, you know, a getting it out of our systems kind of thing."

Provenza winced. "My god man, no details. Please!" He shuddered, a full body movement that made his bones creak. "I don't need to know what it is or isn't, believe me, I do _not _need to know. I just want to make one thing very clear. You are an _idiot._ Leaving breadcrumbs? Like I'm some kind of dunce, when the only one in this car lacking in common sense is you. Please, as if I haven't known you've had the hots for the Wicked Witch since she was still the Wicked Witch. You've been chasing that skirt for more than four years, you just didn't want to acknowledge that you were chasing that skirt. Well, now you've got it. Do yourself a favor, don't screw it up."

He gripped the steering wheel tightly again. "I don't plan on it." Andy looked over. His brow was furrowed, and his dark eyes troubled. "It's going to happen. There's no way that I can _not_ screw this up. At some point she's going to wake up, realize what she's doing, and that's going to be that." He steered with one hand, while running the other into his hair. "You think I don't know this is insane? Sharon's lost her mind, and sooner or later, she's going to come to her senses. All I can do is hang on until then and hope for later, rather than sooner."

"I was wrong." Provenza shook his head. His few screwed up in a sour expression before he sighed. "You're not an idiot. You're just stupid." It would have been tempting to smack him, except that he was driving. "You're going to screw it up. I know it. You know it. Hell, _she_ knows it. You think she would risk her career, everything she's worked for all these years including her reputation, on a fit of insanity? _You_ are insane, I didn't say she was. I mean, she is, but not completely. Look," He turned slightly in his seat and pointed at his partner, "about the only thing you could do to screw it up irreparably would be to drink, cheat, or gamble." Provenza gave him a pointed look. "You've never been fond of gambling, you gave up the drinking, and the one thing your ex-wife can't say about you is that you cheated on her. I think you've got it under control." He paused. "But if you ever tell anyone that I said that, I'll shoot you myself."

Andy had to fight the urge to grin. Instead, he inclined his head and let his mouth settle into a smirk. "No one would believe me." They stopped at another light and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Hey, I know it's crazy… I just… you know."

It was his turn to heave an exasperated sigh. "Yeah," Provenza said. "I know." He shook his head. Insanity. Fools the both of them, Flynn _and_ the Captain, but hell, they were all getting old. Who wanted to be alone at this point in their lives? He tapped the tips of his fingers together again. "Look, Flynn…" He scowled at the thoughts circulating his brain now. "I've been around for a long time. Long enough to hear things. Just…" He gestured, almost helplessly with his hands. "Tread carefully, yeah? Not just for the team, or for the kid. That husband was a real piece of work. I know she's rid of him now, but rumor had it, way back when… he did a number." He held up a finger before his partner could respond. "Just try to remember that she's… _almost _human. And let's never speak on any of this again. _Ever_."

An incredulous smile crossed his face. His partner was actually warning _him_ to be good to _her_. It was a turn of events that he could not have predicted. Andy was so taken back by it that he found himself nodding in response. "Yeah, okay." He knew that Jack had hurt her, albeit not physically, but he had left his scars on her just the same. Andy was aware that, despite its downfalls and inconveniences, she had stayed married to Jack all of those years because it was a safety net. Among her many other reasons. Despite all of that, Andy found himself smirking. He glanced sideways at his partner. "So then… you _don__'__t_ want to be my best man?" The look it earned him could have melted steel. It was a look worthy of the Wicked Witch herself. Andy laughed as he pulled them through another intersection.

The bad news was, Flynn had a pretty good feeling he was about to get another lecture. On the upside, at least Provenza wasn't complaining anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

Unconditionally - Chapter 6

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

"_A family is a place where minds come _

_in contact with one another. If these minds love _

_one another, the home will be as beautiful _

_as a flower garden. But if these minds get out of _

_harmony with one another it is like a storm _

_that plays havoc with the garden.__"_

— _Buddha_

"And that makes strike two," Provenza observed as he sank back into his chair. The entire team was back, and from the frustrated looks on all of their faces, nothing new had been gleaned, and there was still no sign of Jason Allen. That, in and of itself, was evidence, but not enough for a search warrant. They had a notion that Michael Allen's confession was a lie, but no evidence to prove it. "Great." He picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser hard against the surface of his desk. "Anyone remember when this used to be easy?"

Several pairs of eyes turned his way. Flynn shrugged. "The A/C unit in my service car is a little crazy lately. I think the heat got to him."

"I don't know, Lieutenant." Sykes flashed a too bright smile. "You've been around for so long, I bet you've got stories about when catching the bad guy used to be pretty straight forward."

Because Sharon turned away altogether _too_ abruptly, Flynn directed his scowl at her as well. "You know something, Sykes. You have a point there. In fact, we've been around so long that we remember when the _junior_ Detectives used to know how to be seen and not heard."

Provenza pointed his pencil at his partner. "That was a good one. I'm writing that down for next time."

"Well, I do some of my best work when Sykes is being particularly perky," Andy pointed out.

"I've noticed that. It must be why we keep her." Provenza tapped his pencil against his lip. "Yep, that has to be it. Well, besides the fact that the Captain wants someone to _like_ her." He rolled his eyes at his partner and made a face, as though that was still the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

Sharon was now leaning against the edge of a desk on the periphery of the murder room, beside Detective Sanchez. Julio looked at her, face completely serious. "I like you, ma'am."

She pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from smiling, but it didn't stop the corners of her eyes from crinkling, or the glitter of silent laughter that turned them a shade of bright green. She had to clear her throat when Amy rolled her eyes at Sanchez and leaned back in her seat, pretending to be put out with all of them. "Thank you, Julio." Sharon tilted her head at him. "Although, there is something that I'm wondering." She kept her gaze on him.

"Ma'am?" His brows lifted, and he appeared genuinely curious.

"I thought we weren't going to leave them alone together anymore?" She nodded her head toward Flynn and Provenza.

Sanchez followed her gaze. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I believe that was the plan, ma'am, however, we had to improvise due to unforeseen circumstances."

"Hm." Her lips pursed. "Which were what, exactly?"

"Couple's therapy ma'am," he deadpanned. "Sometimes, we just have to let them work it out for themselves."

"I see." Sharon clasped her hands in her lap and clenched her jaw tightly, to keep from laughing. There was a light tremor in her voice when she added, "I'll keep that in mind, Detective."

"Yes ma'am." Sanchez turned his attention back to the others, and managed, somehow to keep from smirking. His cheeks twitched a few times, but he suppressed the urge.

"Nuh uh," Flynn was waving a finger back and forth. He stood beside Provenza's desk. "I'm not liking that." He pointed at Sharon and Julio, still seated side by side against the edge of the desk, facing the rest of the team with almost twin expressions of amused superiority. "We've lost Sanchez. He drank the kool-aid."

There were moments in his life that Louis Provenza really thought were golden. This was one of them, or rather, it was his partner's timing that was sometimes golden. He leaned back in his seat and tipped his head. He looked almost giddy when he turned his attention back to Flynn. "Well, considering what _you__'__ve_ been doing in the kool-aid, I think drinking it is the least of Julio's worries." He had the distinct pleasure of Flynn's head whipping around so quickly his neck popped. The Captain's eyes narrowed, just so, and her hands twitched against her lap. Provenza smiled widely back at them.

Sharon decided she would let him have this _one_. Anymore than that was fair game, and she hoped Provenza was wise enough to recognize it. If he wasn't, then four wives had taught him absolutely nothing. She tilted her head to the side and pushed her attention back to their current case. "Lieutenant Tao, how is the dump of Sarah Leslie's computer coming?"

"I was able to access the data, Captain. I'm compiling her emails for the month prior to the shooting." He glanced up only long enough to answer her.

"Three years ago, with a confession, there was no reason for us to collect Sarah Leslie's computer records," Sharon explained to the others. "Her computer was located at her parent's home, it wasn't evidence in the shooting. Now, however, given what we know and what we suspect, the victim's parents have given us access to the computer and its records. I called Lieutenant Tao on the way back and asked him to begin dumping the data. With any luck, we'll have something which can get us a search warrant."

"An arrest warrant would be better," Flynn pointed out.

"Yes, but I'll take what I can get," she said. "As we get it. Besides which, an arrest warrant doesn't do us much good without a suspect." She slipped off the desk and smoothed her pants down.

Provenza grunted. "Well, if FID had been more diligent in the first place, we wouldn't need an arrest warrant now."

Sharon tilted her head at him. The others had stilled, shooting incredulous looks at the Lieutenant, but she saw the humor behind his gaze, and in the twist of his lips when he smirked at her. "Maybe…" She clasped her hands in front of her. "Then again, had the members of Major Crimes been better at behaving themselves, FID wouldn't have needed to be less diligent. I might have remained involved in the case rather than babysitting." She turned on her heel and headed toward her office, having won that round.

"See," Provenza pointed a finger at Flynn. "This is what happens when you're bad."

He rolled his eyes at his partner. "How did this end up being _my_ fault?"

"Simple." Provenza leaned forward against his desk. "Major Crimes 101. When in doubt? It's always Flynn's fault."

Andy's brows shot up. "Since when?"

"Right now." He gave a firm nod and took out a notepad. "I'm putting it on the list."

"Hm," Andy grunted. He leaned over and pointed at the notepad. "Oh look, you're putting it right under _Provenza is a senile old goat_. Well, I don't feel so bad now." He tapped his partner on the shoulder with a grin and walked over to sink down behind his desk.

"I sent a req down to traffic to have them pull the footage around the Allen house going in both directions," Julio told them. "If we can get an ID on Jason Allen's car, we might be able to track it through the city. It's a long shot, but we're not doing anything else at the moment."

"We asked the staff at the rehab facility to contact us if Allen shows up to see his mother," Sykes stated. "They aren't exactly jumping at the chance to help out, but they said they would call if he stops by to visit his mother."

Provenza snorted. "I wouldn't suggest holding your breath, Sykes. I don't expect that phone call to come. We should probably start expecting that Jason Allen is in the wind." He drummed his fingers against his desk. "Send a couple of patrol cars to keep an eye on things. The Allen residence and the rehab center. Have _them_ call us if Allen is spotted."

"I don't think he's gone anywhere," Tao stood up and walked toward the printer. He stopped long enough to drop several coins in the jar. "He's had years to disappear. We haven't arrested him yet, that indicates we don't have enough to arrest him, he has to know that. I think he's trying to hide whatever it is that we _might_ find. He bought himself some time promising to come in. I think he'll turn up." He picked up the pages that had just printed and read through them. "This is interesting."

"That was quick," Andy leaned forward against his desk. "Something in the emails?"

"Captain," Tao walked back toward his desk, and stood beside it, still reading. When Sharon appeared, he handed her the top few pages. "Looks like not everyone in the Allen family was fond of Sarah Leslie in the weeks before the shooting. Mrs. Allen was attempting to warn her away from her son. She wanted them to break up. Seems she found out about the affair the victim was having, she was threatening to tell her son if the victim didn't stay away from him."

Sharon read through the exchanges quickly. "There's nothing overtly threatening here. The responses from Sarah Leslie read more aggressive than the warnings from Susan Allen." She shook her head and handed the pages back. "Granted, if she felt her son was in any way threatened, coupled with her drug abuse… it could have combined to create a dangerous frame of mind. We'll want to tread carefully on that angle, we don't want to appear as though we're leaning too hard on Mrs. Allen. She's hospitalized and her husband just died. Jason Allen is still our best lead, either as a witness or a suspect. Let's see what else we can learn before we question her."

"Michael Allen could have just as easily been protecting his wife as he could his son," Flynn stated. "If the wife did it, and not the son, then he could be running scared. It was his girlfriend, he could see it as a mess he created. How did he seem when you questioned him yesterday," his gaze went to his partner.

"Nervous," Provenza shrugged. "Not overly panicked. He was hiding something, but the entire family is hiding _something_, so that wasn't unduly strange."

"The problem is that confession." Sharon folded her arms over her chest. "As long as its on record, any other evidence we have right now is circumstantial at best. Without that confession, we'd have a warrant for at least the questioning of Mrs. Allen."

"So how do we get it off the record?" Sanchez glanced curiously at her.

"We make a call." She turned on her heel and strode toward her office. "If we can find reason to discredit it, then the DA's office could be persuaded to release it from the case against Michael Allen. I'll speak to DDA Hobbs…" Sharon paused just before her office door and turned. She cast a look at Provenza, brow raised. "Unless you'd like to call your friend DDA Rios?"

He scowled darkly at her. "I wouldn't count on it, Captain."

"Pity." She turned, with a slight smile, and stepped into the office.

Provenza's eyes narrowed. He stood up from his desk and went to the white board behind it. He took up a handful of markers, and in a clear spot on the board, he began to draw. First there was the hat, and then there was the broom. He whistled a jaunty tune as the witch took shape. When he was finished, he put the markers down and gave a firm nod. He clapped his hands together, as though dusting them off. "Yes, that will do nicely." He walked toward the break room. "I need another coffee."

Flynn shook his head. He rolled is eyes toward Sanchez and Sykes, and then he sighed. "This is that moment when you realize that _this_ is what a kindergarten teacher feels like."

Julio snorted a dry laugh. "Oh, come on sir. It's fourth grade, at least." He leaned forward in his seat and rested his arms against his desk. A devious smirk curved his lips upward. "It could be worse, Lieutenant. He could be _dating_ her." His brows bobbed and his smile widened, while in the desk across from his, Sykes almost choked on her coffee. He knew better, of course, and why should he get to have a little fun at the older man's expense. Turn about was fair play.

Andy's brain went to, quite possibly, the most disturbing place it had ever been before. His dark eyes narrowed. "Sanchez, there's going to come a day when I'm going to forget that I like you. Do us all a favor, stop trying to herald the apocalypse."

Julio laughed. "That was pretty frightening."

"Horrifying is more like it," Sykes added, throwing in a little shudder for good measure. "That's like imagining your grandparents—"

"Hey." Flynn scowled at her. "Don't finish that thought."

"Really," Julio added with a shake of his head.

Sharon joined them a moment later. "Hobbs is meeting us down the block at her office." Her gaze swept the room. "Detective Sanchez, you're with me. Lieutenant Tao, you will continue scanning Ms. Leslie's records for anything that might prove to be a more substantial threat or lead?" It was less a question than an order, even if she had worded it as such. Her attention swept to Sykes before he could respond. "Detective Sykes, I'd like for you to work with Buzz when Traffic transmits the camera footage. Lieutenant Flynn…" Her eyes lit, just briefly, and with enough amusement to put him on edge and rightfully so. "I'd like for you to contact Lieutenant Mathews and Sergeant Elliot. They will assist you in tracking down any of Jason Allen's known associates and friends. Let's see if he's made contact with them, or if they might know where he is."

His brows drew together. He gave her a look which might have been a scowl, and only darkened when Sanchez grinned at him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent." She strode toward the door. "You can have Lieutenant Provenza assist you. I'm sure he'll be excited at the opportunity." As Sharon left the murder room, she was almost certain she heard Andy groaning. A small smile tugged at her lips. Her heels clicked cheerfully against the tile of the hallway. When she reached the elevator, she stopped to let Sanchez catch up.

He was almost chuckling. Julio reached past her to hit the button. "I want to be like you when I grow up," he announced with a grin.

A delighted peel of laughter escaped before Sharon could control it. "Thank you, Detective. I think." She stepped into the elevator when it opened. She turned an amused look on him. "That should keep them busy for a while. Although, it might not make them very easy to get along with for the rest of the day."

"No, ma'am," Sanchez agreed. "I don't believe they will be. Perhaps we should take our time coming back."

Her head inclined. "That's a very good idea, Julio. In fact, it's such a nice day out. Maybe we should walk. We're only going down the block. We could stop at the corner deli on the way back for lunch. It will be my treat."

"Captain," his dark eyes were alight with silent laughter. "You're keeping me out of the office while you get even with the Lieutenants. It will be _my_ treat."

She laughed again. "I don't know what you're talking about, Detective. I simply asked them to complete a task that needed to be done. If they happen to not enjoy it and think twice before doodling certain pictures during working hours, so be it." She clasped her hands in front of her and gave him a look that was altogether just too innocent.

"Yes ma'am." He turned his gaze back to the doors in front of them. He wouldn't ask why she had sent Lieutenant Flynn along. Lieutenant Provenza was giving him more of a hard time than was usual, and she was spending less time with him at the office than had become her habit. Sanchez had an inkling that was not much of an inkling at all. They were pretty obvious about it, and the more discreet they attempted to be, the more obvious it was. At the very least, it was obvious to someone who knew Flynn.

The Lieutenant wasn't usually so tight lipped when he was dating someone, and he _was_ dating someone, of that Sanchez was certain. Otherwise, why would Provenza be asking him to a game, and why would Flynn beg off on going out with the team more often than he showed up. Not to mention that it was baseball season, and he hadn't had them over to his place, even once, for a game on the big screen hanging in his living room. That was the deciding factor in Sanchez's theory. Of course, he wasn't convinced it was the Captain until he started paying attention to both of them, rather than just the Lieutenant. It was Rusty that gave it away.

The boy hadn't said anything, which surprised Sanchez a little. No, it was little things, but the most telling had taken place a few weeks before. Rusty was at the station and Julio glanced up at the same time that Rusty turned away from Flynn and the Captain. It was in the way he rolled his eyes and shook his head at them. Teenager speak for _get a room_. Julio had seen it from his younger siblings and cousins too many times and for much less interaction than Flynn and the Captain had been engaging in at that moment. Since then, Julio kept a closer eye on them. He thought he was keeping an eye out for trouble, they didn't need another Daniels and Gabriel on their hands. Turned out, he was wrong.

"DDA Hobbs has arranged for someone to assist us," Sharon's voice cut in to his thoughts. "I doubt very much that we will be seeing DDA Rios," she slanted a look at him suppressed, barely, another smile.

Julio stared straight ahead. "I don't know what you're talking about Captain," he stated, parroting her line back at her with a small, amused grin.

"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully and took her phone out of her purse. Sharon scrolled through her messages while they walked. Instead of going to the parking garage, they went through the main lobby. There was a breeze in the air, it cut the heat of the day, leaving it warm but not unbearable for the short walk to the District Attorney's office down the street. Sharon chuckled quietly at the text from Rusty, which she was only just now getting to read.

"_A vegetarian who cooks bacon for his girlfriend__'__s foster kid is bucking for extra points. What did he do?__"_

"Rusty," she stated, when Sanchez cast a curious glance her way. She shook her head as she sent her response. "_You are not supposed to be texting in class. He didn__'__t do anything.__"_

"_I__'__m in study hall. That doesn__'__t count. He__'__s a guy. Guys aren__'__t that nice unless they did something. Trust me.__" _

Sharon kept one eye on the sidewalk in front of her, and was glad that Sanchez was the silent type. He wasn't overly chatty, and was content to leave her to her own devices while they made their way down the street. "_It counts. So stop doing it. Andy is not in trouble. He was being nice. He__'__s cooked for us before. Did you thank him?__" _

"_If you want me to stop texting you, then stop replying. Yes, you have taught me manners and they are impeccable. Well, if he__'__s still in _not_ trouble tonight, dessert would be great. Something with chocolate._"

Sharon rolled her eyes and slipped her phone back into her purse. "The closer he gets to graduation, the harder it is for his teachers to keep his attention. I'm surprised he isn't sneaking out of class to play chess."

"He could be sneaking out to do a lot worse," Sanchez replied. "He turned out okay. Annoying. But he's okay," he added with a smile.

"Yes." Her smile softened. "He is."

"Has he got any plans for after graduation?" Julio asked, studying her from the corner of his eye. They had all wondered what would happen with Rusty after the trial was over with. Now that his part in it was done, and now that he was legally an adult and aged out of the foster care system, it was school that had kept him with the Captain. Rusty wanted to finish and the tuition at St. Joseph's was already paid up. That was quickly coming to an end now too. Graduation was only weeks away. What would he do then? The Captain had fought tooth and nail to keep him. They had seen the worry, the pain, the abject terror. She did a good job, suppressing and hiding most of it, but emotions that strong eventually leaked out. It hadn't made her less in their eyes, just human. A mother protecting her child, only he wasn't her child, not really. He could leave. Sanchez worried that there was still a part of Rusty that was so self absorbed that he would leave, that he would go and not look back, not realize the hurt and destruction he could leave behind him.

The question was posed so carefully, but wrapped in a sense of casual ease that didn't quite cover its purpose. Sharon slanted a look at him, but her smile faltered. They were concerned, and there was really no reason to be concerned. It was touching, but at the same time, it made her just a little uneasy. She was trying very hard to get back to a level of discretion that she managed to maintain before joining Major Crimes. That separation of home and work was so compromised now, she wasn't sure that she would ever get it back. Part of her wasn't sure that she wanted it back. It was just something that she was used to. Now, she supposed, she was getting accustomed to something else. Of course, if she were truly willing to draw that line again she understood that she would have to give up Andy. Sharon wasn't willing to do that. She had forgotten what it felt like, over the long years of her separation from Jackson, to feel like this. It wasn't only being loved. He respected her, he appreciated her. He wanted _her_. Those were things which had been missing from her marriage. Jackson had loved her, in his way, and there was a time when she had loved him. The two feelings did not equate. She could not compare them. She was a different person then. It was a different situation.

"Rusty wants to work," Sharon replied. "There are a couple of positions open in the department, summer work, paid internships for graduates. I told him I wouldn't stop him from applying if that's what he really wanted. He'll be doing little more than answering phones and delivering mail, but we all have to start somewhere, right?" Her eyes sparkled. "He's spent enough time at the station, I'd almost like to see him doing something _normal_, but, as Rusty has reminded me… Both Rick and Isabelle interned at the Department for consecutive summers prior to and during college."

"Most cops kids do," Sanchez pointed out with a smile. "For us, that is _normal_. I got my younger sister on one year, that's how she met her husband. He was Narcotics, just a rook, but Joe is an alright guy. They moved up to Fresno some years ago."

Sharon cast a small, gentle smile at him. Julio didn't speak much about his family anymore, as she understood it. It was hard for him, losing his brother, Oscar. It was always hard to lose someone you loved, that you were close to. She knew that Sanchez had been married once, his wife had died, and that they'd not had any children. He still wore his ring, although from what Sharon knew, it had been over a decade. "I understand what you're asking," she said finally. "Rusty knows that he is free to leave whenever he chooses, but for now he has chosen to stay. You can put the others minds at ease. I won't be turning into some sort of bereft harridan anytime soon."

"That isn't… we didn't…" When Julio looked at her, he saw the humor shining in her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. "I'll tell them," he said instead, his own smile returning. "We worry, ma'am." They stopped at the doors leading into the building that housed the District Attorney's offices. Sanchez had his hand resting on the door, and fixed her with his dark gaze. "You told Rusty once that he was family. He's not the only one."

Her head tilted, and the smile that softened her face was the warm one, usually reserved for Rusty… or Andy. "Julio." Sharon shook her head when her voice caught in her throat. "Thank you. But you don't have to worry. Rusty isn't leaving anytime soon. It has been discussed and settled. Okay?"

"Okay." Julio pulled the door open for her and stepped aside so she could enter ahead of him. "I'll pass the word around." He followed her, and there was a devious grin playing at his lips. "Hey, you could pull some strings. Get the kid assigned to helping out Buzz. That would be cool."

Sharon arched a brow at him. "Detective Sanchez, I think perhaps the heat of the afternoon was too much for you. I do not pull strings." She lifted her chin, but had to suppress a smirk. There was a pause as they strode toward the elevators. "He'll be working down the hall with Ida in Taylor's office."

Julio had to press his lips together to hold back the bark of laughter. Instead, he shook his head and hurried to keep up with her clipped stride. "Travieso, bruja traviesa," he muttered.

"Yes, I know." She smirked at him, and reached out to press the button for the elevator. "Lieutenant Provenza's artful depictions notwithstanding, of course."

"Yes ma'am." Julio stepped into the elevator behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

Unconditionally - Chapter 7

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

"_Smile when he makes you happy, _

_yell when he makes you mad, _

_and miss him when he__'__s not there. _

_Love hard when there is love to be had. _

_Because perfect guys don__'__t exist, _

_but there__'__s always one guy that is perfect for you.__"_

— _Bob Marley_

Lieutenant Provenza had his chair turned so that it was facing the entrance to the Murder Room. He was keeping a watchful eye out for that harridan, the one who insisted that she was in charge. Well, if it weren't for him, the division would have fallen apart three seconds after she took over. That is what he kept telling himself, particularly at moments like this one. Moments where he had been forced to spend the better part of a morning and afternoon with the rat squad. Those little peacocks down in Internal Affairs were still completely besotted with Her Darthness, and of course they were only so eager to please. No, the problem had come from having to deal with Flynn while that Lieutenant Matthews had gone on, and on, _and on_ about just how wonderful the Wicked Witch was, and just how badly they missed having her as part of their division. It had put Provenza in a bit of a foul mood, and now he was waiting for her. The very moment that he saw Raydor, Provenza was going to give her a piece of his mind. How dare she abandon him to be part of Flynn's punishment. He had earned it fair and square, and what might have been enjoyable had become too annoying for words, very quickly.

What Louis Provenza had not planned on was the text that Tao sent to Sanchez to warn him. Further unprepared was he for the loyalty that Sanchez felt toward his new boss. So it was that the pair returned from their outing at the District Attorney's office via the hallway which led to Assistant Chief Taylor's office. They entered quietly, Sharon even treading more softly on her heeled shoes, so that the usual sound of her footfalls did not precede her appearance. When she spotted Flynn, he scowled darkly at her, but she held a finger to her lips. There was enough warning in her gaze to halt any attempts he might have made at circumventing her. Sharon strode around to stand behind Provenza's chair and bent down. "What are we waiting for," she asked quietly.

Lieutenant Provenza launched himself out of his chair with enough speed to indicate a man a third of his age. He turned, eyes wide, but only for a moment. They narrowed quickly. He pointed a finger at her. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?"

Behind her, Sanchez was snickering. "That was good, sir. I didn't know you could still move like that."

"Neither did he." Flynn smirked.

"Oh sure," Provenza scowled at the room at large. "Laugh it up. All of you, and you!" He pointed a finger at Rusty, who had arrived only a half an hour before. "Go right ahead, young man, keep it up. I'll rethink taking you out tonight."

"I'm sorry." He was having a hard time controlling his laughter. "But the look on your face…"

"It was pretty funny," Buzz agreed. "But that was very inappropriate behavior," he quickly added, in deference to having Provenza's thunderous look leveled at him.

"Perhaps," Sharon shrugged. "You were simply so intent in your gaze, I didn't want to disturb you. I do apologize for frightening you, Lieutenant." Her voice hitched, just slightly, with the effort to contain her own laughter. Her eyes, however, were a light shade of moss, and dancing merrily.

"You are wicked," he shook his finger at her. "You are evil." Provenza heaved an exasperated sigh. "And you _must_ be destroyed."

"Many have tried," she pointed out for him. "All have failed." Sharon folded her arms over her chest. "I also have arrest warrants for both of our current suspects. Allen and his mother. I don't suppose any of you would be interested in actually doing our jobs?"

Flynn's brows shot up. "You got the confession thrown out of evidence?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Michael Allen's story doesn't fit the evidence we have now, and it was delivered with too much ease. There are certain facts in the confession which don't fit. Positioning of the body, for example. It was enough to discount the confession and allow us to continue with our investigation." She tilted her head at him, lifted her own brows. "Should we proceed, or did you have something better in mind?"

"No, that's alright." Flynn smirked at her. "I think we can continue. Just let Provenza go change first."

"Funny." His partner rolled his eyes at him. "A real comedian that one. This time, _I_ get to ride with Sanchez. I don't want to deal with either one of you." Provenza snatched his jacket off the back of his chair and continued to glare at them.

Sharon shrugged. "Lieutenant Tao, Detective Sykes, head out to LSI, see if Jason Allen ever showed up at work. If he's not there, follow up on his known associates. Let's see if he's hiding with any friends. Did Traffic ever get back to us?"

"Yes Captain," Sykes stated. "We have footage of Allen leaving his home, but we lost him several blocks later. Buzz is still scanning the footage."

"Alright, for now continue," Sharon nodded at Buzz. "Lieutenant Provenza, take Detective Sanchez to the Rehab facility and pay a visit to Susan Allen. Lieutenant Flynn and I will check out the Allen residence. It's doubtful that he's there, but that will be our first stop." Her gaze swept to Andy. "We'll follow up with the others on any of Jason's known haunts. You have the list from Sergeant Elliot?"

"Yeah." He grunted. "I have it." He knew better than to complain, but his partner was right. Sending them down to IA was just evil.

"Good." They would coordinate with Patrol backing up each pair. Sharon stopped and turned. "Rusty…"

"I have homework," He lifted his bag. "I'll just go hang out in my cubicle."

"Thank you." She watched him go before turning her attention back to her team. "Let's go."

The team disbursed to their assignments. Flynn waited until he and Sharon were alone in his car before he slanted a side-ways look at her and huffed. "Elliot and Matthews? Sharon…"

The corners of her mouth twitched. "They were helpful, were they not?" She carefully schooled her features to gaze at him. "I always found them to be quite thorough and very forthcoming. Honestly, I don't understand what issues that you or Lieutenant Provenza could have found in dealing with two of my best. We really do have to strive to get along with other divisions better. Don't you think?"

It was that moment when disagreeing would get him in trouble, but the opposite left an odd, not quite foul taste in his mouth. Andy squinted at her. "Really?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hmm." Sharon turned her gaze forward and shrugged. "Well, I didn't think it was too much to ask."

Andy heaved a loud, almost rumbling sigh. "_Sharon_." His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as they left the parking garage.

"Don't do it again," she stated simply. "Next time, dealing with your partner's mood and my former colleagues will be the least of your punishment." Sharon flashed a pointed look at him. "Andy, we have to be—"

"Careful," he nodded. "I get it. Honestly, Sharon, jeopardizing you is the last thing I'd do. I really didn't mean…"

"I know," she cut him off with a smile. "Which is why the method of punishment suited the _crime_." She shook her head at him. "Just don't let it happen again, at the very least, not where your partner can spot it."

"Yes ma'am," he flashed a grin at her, the boyish one that usually got him out of hot water. Andy glanced into the rearview mirror at the patrol car that was following them. The Allen residence was down in Huntington Park, which was south of the downtown LAPD offices, within which Major Crimes was located. It wasn't a very long drive, but in afternoon traffic, it would take them every bit of half an hour or longer.

Sharon filled much of the drive with coordinating with Tao and Sykes. They had a list of places to check for Jason Allen, and while Andy drove, Sharon went through the list with Sykes. They were splitting the list, with Andy and Sharon checking those closest to the Allen residence. It stood to reason that Jason might want to stay close to home, to keep an eye on things.

"You really expect us to find Allen?" Flynn asked, once Sharon was off the phone. They had entered Huntington Park, and he was maneuvering through the streets of the old residential neighborhood. He pulled them to a stop behind a line of cars waiting at a red light.

"No," she sighed. "We're also limited at detaining his mother. As long as she's a patient, we can't remove her from treatment. She'll have to be arrested upon leaving the facility at the end of her treatment program. What I'm hoping is that Jason will answer some questions for us, perhaps set the record straight, and clear his father of a crime we all know that he did not commit."

"It might not be as easy as all that," Andy pointed out.

"It never is." Sharon shrugged. Her lips turned downward in a sad smile. "Getting to the truth rarely is, when it's painful. I'm optimistic that Jason will see reason. Even if it's likely unfounded."

"You're an optimist, but you call yourself a realist," Andy shook his head at her. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Sharon."

"I don't have to," she leaned her head back against the passenger seat and gazed at him. A warm, affectionate gleam entered her eyes. Her lips curved up, just slightly. "I have you."

Andy glanced at her and smiled. The light turned green and traffic began moving again. He reached out and lightly brushed her hand with his. He would have liked to have enclosed his fingers around hers, but they were still on duty. In the next moment, the sounds of twisting metal and breaking glass filled his ears. Then the world was spinning, although it might have been the car.

The impact knocked the air out of him, he was jostled, and only vaguely aware of the pop of the air bags deploying. The spinning was the car rolling. It was loud, like continuous thunder in his ear, or a freight train as it passed.

Then it was over, and there was only the darkness.

_**The Present**__**…**_

Lieutenant Tao had arrived, along with Sykes. "Do we know where they are taking them?"

"Cedars," Sanchez replied. "Once they get them out of the car. They've almost got Flynn. He's giving them hell."

"That's good right?" Sykes was looking at all of them, wide-eyed. "He's conscious?"

"Yeah, he's conscious alright." Provenza shook his head. "He came too a few minutes ago, mad as hell, and making sure everyone knew it." That was a bit of a relief. If he was mad enough to indulge in a fit of temper, then he was mad enough to be alright. "Looks like his air bag caught most of it. He's banged up, but he's had worse. They'll do a full work up when they get him to the hospital."

Sykes was nodding slowly. She cast a look back at the car and swallowed hard. "What about the Captain?"

Everyone grew silent. Sanchez shared a look with Provenza before the younger Detective shrugged. "We don't know. They aren't saying, just to tell us that she's alive. The car hit them on the passenger side. She's pinned in pretty good, that's why it's taking so long. It's what Lieutenant Flynn is so worked up about. They've almost got him out, they're waiting until he's out to finish extricating her."

"Rusty?" Tao asked the obvious question. He had his hands in his pockets, while he cast a worried look at the mangled vehicles in front of them. The other car was completely totaled, the front of it somewhere near the rear passenger compartment. It was a small car to begin with. Another emergency crew was working to try and reach that driver, although they were fairly certain it was a lost cause. The third vehicle had been unlucky enough to strike Flynn's Crown Vic as it had been tumbling. That car was damaged, and the driver looked injured, but it appeared superficial. Paramedics were already with her.

"Buzz is keeping him occupied," Provenza stated. "He doesn't know. The Murder Room is on lock down, no one is to mention it until we have some kind of solid news to give him. Taylor is holding off on phoning their families until we've got something to tell them. I told him I would call Nicole, but since Flynn is running his mouth…" He would let his partner make that call himself, if he was really okay enough to do so.

Tao frowned. "The Captain's kids aren't local. Shouldn't we give them time to begin making flight arrangements?"

"Maybe." Provenza sighed. "But I was holding out on the off chance we'd have something positive to tell them. They'll be worried enough."

Sykes folded her arms over her chest and frowned. "Chief Taylor is going to call them?" It seemed impersonal to her.

"His oldest is about the same age as the Captain's son," Provenza explained. "They played little league together. The Captain has been on the job a long time, Sykes. I know she's your hero, but there was a time when she was just an officer. Taylor's known her a while, they go back, both of them started in Patrol. Then they moved on, moved up." He shook his head. "We've all known each other a while. That's the downside to being so old. We all remember _when_."

Sykes nodded, but wisely kept her mouth closed. Instead, she moved to lean against the side of the patrol car next to the others. They were all waiting, and it seemed they would keep waiting until they had some kind of news.

Movement, some minutes later, drew all their attention. EMS personnel had moved a stretcher over by the car. They were bringing Flynn out. Once he was secured on a backboard, he was lifted onto the stretcher. The team could hear him now, cursing a blue streak, maligning the rescuers for leaving the Captain in the mangled vehicle.

Provenza took that as his cue and hurried over. "Shut up, idiot." When he got close enough, he could see the damage for himself. He refrained from looking inside the car, Flynn looked bad enough. He was bruised up, cut up, and generally not quite his usually pretty self. "You look like hell."

"Damnit Louie!" Flynn growled at having his arms strapped to his sides. It was to keep him from moving too much, he knew that logically, but his logic centers weren't functioning at the present. "Tell them to get Sharon out. I'm fine. Really. I can feel everything, it hurts like a bitch. Nothing is broken. I'm just banged up, and my god, I've got a headache from hell."

"They're working on it," Provenza said. He was too relieved to be reassuring. "They had to get your loud mouth out of the way first, so they could get to her. Now they can focus everything they've got on the Wicked Witch. You know how she likes to hog all the attention," he attempted a smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. "Come on, let them get you out of here. You can be waiting on her at the hospital. Call Nicole, let her know you're okay before this hits the news."

That shut him up. Flynn snarled at him, but said nothing more about it. "Fine. I'm going. You don't leave until she's out," he ordered. "You hear me? I want you right here until she's out of that car."

"I'm not going anywhere." Even if he hadn't been asked, he wouldn't leave until both of them were on their way to the hospital. "I'll send Tao and Sykes with you. Julio and I are staying right here. Flynn, seriously. Calm down. We've got eyes on Sharon. These guys are doing their best, and if they don't, we'll shoot them."

"Yeah, yeah," it was enough to pacify, at least remotely. He wasn't going to calm down until he knew that she was alright. "Louie…" The ache in his throat was almost stronger than the aches he felt all over his body. His voice hitched, his breath trembled. His chest ached from more than the impact with the steering wheel. "She wasn't moving," he managed between clenched teeth.

"I know." Provenza touched his arm. "It's going…" He couldn't say that it would be okay. They had all seen too much for that. "I won't leave until she's out," he repeated instead. "Go, let them look after you. Or else, when she does get out, she'll have both our heads. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being on the receiving end. We've been in enough trouble for one day." He glanced up and nodded at the paramedics, letting them know to take him. His eyes followed the stretcher until it was loaded into the back of the nearest ambulance. Once the doors were closed, he turned. He really wished he'd gone along. He wished that his gaze had not ended up drawn toward the interior of the Crown Victoria. The stark contrast of bright red blood, smeared across pale, delicate skin was going to stay with him for quite some time.

Andy wished they'd turn the sirens off. He wasn't that hurt, and honestly, they were only making his head pound that much harder. Hard enough that he was having a hard time thinking. He was trying to remember, and it was pretty damned important. From the moment he woke that morning, until the second that Sharon stepped out of her condo, he was trying to remember what he'd said to her. Had he told her, actually said the words, that he loved her? He couldn't remember and it was doing more to the ache in his gut than any bruises or injuries could possibly manage.

He could recall the feel of her when the phone rang in those early morning hours. She was curled against his back, and had reached over him to rescue her phone before he could toss it across the room. That much he could remember clearly. He could recall the crinkling at the corners of her eyes when he rolled over and lifted her t-shirt, dropping lazy kisses across her stomach while she spoke to Tao on the other end of the line. The sound of her laughter echoed in his ears now, almost drowned out by the annoying sound of the ambulance sirens. She had laughed after she hung up, called him crazy, and wriggled away from him to slide out of bed. They showered together, but he couldn't recall their talking about much of anything at that point, and afterward she had filled him in on the call from Mike. Then she asked him to take Rusty to school, and he agreed.

Andy had promised to take the Volvo in to have it serviced on Saturday morning, so that she could enjoy a late morning, pending any case interruptions. He was going to take Rusty with him, Sharon had laughed at that as well, and the fact that it was time that Rusty learned how to be responsible for such things on his own. If he was going to drive the car, he needed to take care of it. Sharon had given him that indulgent smile of hers, the one she reserved for when she still thought he was being crazy, but he was doing the right thing. Then she slipped her shoes on and grabbed her gun and badge. Andy knew that he kissed her before she left, but it was driving him insane, that he couldn't remember if he'd actually said the words.

It wasn't as if they said them a lot, but that admission had been made. They weren't people who used a lot of words, not when it came to emotions and how they felt about each other, or those around them. He told her he'd see her as soon as he dropped the kid off, she had waved, and that was it.

He hadn't said it. Those words had not passed his lips that morning. Now she was bleeding, broken, and not moving. The ambulance was leaving a trail of miles between them. If anyone should be trapped, twisted in piles of mangled metal and glass, it should be him. Why couldn't it be him?

"_Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy.__"_

— _F. Scott Fitzgerald_

High above the accident site the police helicopter was still circling. It was a constant sentinel, keeping away the news helicopters that would have liked to have filmed the sight of LAPD officers being pulled from the wreckage of their totaled vehicle. "Air 19, this is Central. Be advised that Flight for Life will be entering your air space shortly. LAPD ground patrol is clearing an LZ for them now."

"Copy that Central," The pilot glanced down and saw that, sure enough, a large area was being cleared at the intersection of Saturn and Templeton. Onlookers and cars had been moved, pushed back. It would be a tight fit, but a decent pilot could land in the area. "Air 19 is moving off to a wider circuit. Tell Flight for Life to proceed to this location."

"Acknowledged," dispatch replied.

Below them, Sanchez started when the sound of the helicopter grew nearer. He nudged the Lieutenant beside him. Both of them pushed away from the patrol car they had been leaning against. The nearing helicopter meant they were getting closer to bringing her out. Both of them moved nearer to the damaged car. "Hey, Martin, what have you got for me?"

The paramedic glanced over and suppressed the urge to sigh. The LAPD was always pushy about their own, but Martin had dealt with Sanchez before. He was like a dog with a bone, and this one wasn't just a colleague. "We're stabilizing her for transfer to the board," he responded. He nodded to the car, which was surrounded by fire and rescue, and two other paramedics. "We're on this man. She'll be out soon."

"She better be, Martin. If she's not, I'm going to be unhappy," Sanchez warned, glaring at the man.

Martin simply rolled his eyes and turned back around. He was waiting at the ready with the board and their gear.

Cutting the metal away was a delicate process. Fire and Rescue had laid a blanket over her to protect the Captain from the flying sparks as pieces of the car were cut away to make it easier to get to her. Paramedics had crawled into the space vacated by removing Flynn and were quickly assessing her situation and stabilizing her. The problem was the leg. It had been pinned, but there was a large piece of metal which had sliced into her right leg, above the knee. They were worried about the damage, and that in removing it, she would bleed out before they could get her situated in the helicopter. The femoral artery, when severed, could bleed out in a matter of just a few minutes. They didn't know that it had been severed, but they couldn't risk it. For the moment, while the leg was pinned, it wasn't bleeding.

The head injury was of some concern also; there was blood on the right side of her face, from a cut in her hair line where her head had struck the side of the car on impact. She had been unconscious when they arrived, and for most of the extrication, coming too only for brief moments. It was a severe concussion at the very least, but they were being careful of that while her neck was braced for movement.

When the passenger door and the right, front, quarter panel were cut away, they pulled the stretcher in for transfer. The paramedic backed out of the car from the drivers side and quickly rounded the damaged vehicle. The metal slicing into her leg had been clipped away from the car, and was being bandaged in place. Trauma personnel at the hospital could remove it. In the meantime, the Captain was being eased out of the car while Paramedics stabilized her upper body. She was strapped to a backboard before it was lifted onto the stretcher. While she was still in the car, an IV had been inserted. One paramedic held it while they jogged toward the waiting helicopter, now on the ground. The flight crew met them half way and took over. There was a brief exchange of information, vitals and other details.

Sanchez and Provenza hurried forward. There was already a bandage pressed against the head laceration. There were other, smaller cuts from the broken glass, none of them deep enough to be of any concern. The worry came from the head and leg wounds and anything they couldn't see. "Are you still taking her to Cedars?" Provenza pitched his voice up, over the sound of the helicopter rotors as they started to spin again.

"Cedars Sinai," the flight nurse confirmed. "There's a trauma team waiting. We heard your other one was headed there too."

"Sanchez, let's go." He laid a hand, just for a moment, on her arm. Then he backed away, along with the younger detective. They moved to a safe distance and waited until she was loaded into the helicopter. It was another few minutes as the flight team got situated before the helicopter began to rise. Not until it made the turn back toward the northwest, where the hospital, situated in Beverly Hills awaited, did they head toward their car.

Patrol cleared them a path, and two cars acted as escorts as they left the accident scene and headed toward the hospital. "Sir?" Sanchez slanted a look at the Lieutenant from where he sat, behind the steering wheel. Provenza had opted not to drive. "Should we make the call now?"

They didn't really know anything. She was alive, stable enough for transport, but that wasn't anything concrete. Provenza sighed. It was probably the best that they could hope for. "Yeah, I'll make the call now." He took his phone out and dialed Buzz.

"Lieutenant." He turned around, ducking low over his computer when he answered. Rusty was still in his cubicle. He had only ventured out once, and that was to get a soft drink from the vending machine in the break room. He was completely unaware. Buzz swallowed past the knot in his throat. "Is there any news?"

"They're headed to the hospital," Provenza told him, and added which one. "Flynn seemed okay, he was already in a foul mood. They sent him ahead, maybe twenty minutes ago, maybe longer." He wasn't sure how long they had waited after Flynn was gone for them to free the Captain. "They just got the Captain out of the car, she's being flown to the hospital. Grab Rusty, you can meet us there." Buzz would have to deliver the news, and he was sorry about that, but the kid was close to Buzz. He would take it better than if it came from Taylor.

"We're leaving now," Buzz told him. There wasn't much else to say. The call was ended. He stared at his phone for a few moments before sliding it into his pocket and standing. He could scarcely feel his feet as he made the walk toward Rusty's cubicle. He found him, bent over his American Lit book, making notes in his spiral. "Rusty."

He looked up and smiled. "Hey, I'm doing the homework. There is no math, you can't torment me with that anymore. I am math free, at least until you start shoving college math at me, and then we're going to have to talk." Rusty tapped his pencil against his spiral and grinned. "Hey, it's getting kind of late. Are they on their way back? We should order food or something."

"No," Buzz walked around and leaned against the side of the desk. "Rusty, listen…" He didn't know how to do this. He wasn't _trained_ for this. He was just a civilian. Those were the thoughts echoing inside Buzz's head. But he'd seen and heard them do enough notifications over the years, he knew the mechanics, but it was just so _hard_. He understood, the Lieutenant couldn't come back here, and he was preferential over Chief Taylor. It didn't make it easy. At the same time, Buzz didn't feel right leaving it up to anyone else but one of the team, no matter how difficult it was to get the words out.

Somehow he knew. Rusty's smile faltered. He dropped his pencil and let his hands fall into his lap. Suddenly his palms were sweaty. He rubbed them against his jeans. His heart thudded painfully against his chest while his mouth went bone dry. Something had happened. It was there, in the drawn, pale look that Buzz was giving him. "Who," he croaked the question. Which one of them was it? Who on the team was so hurt that it had to be Buzz that told him. Not that he minded. Buzz was good people.

His jaw clenched. Buzz sighed quietly. "Lieutenant Flynn and the Captain." He reached down and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder to keep him in his chair. "Car accident. They are both on their way to Cedars. They're alive, I don't have more than that. Flynn was mad. I think he's okay," he managed a half smile that was less grimace than smile. "I don't know about the Captain, Rusty. They didn't have any information on her yet. I _know_ that she _is_ alive. You and I are going to meet the rest of the team there."

For several long seconds Rusty forgot how to breathe. It was the hand on his shoulder, squeezing at the same time his chest started to burn that had him inhaling finally. Flynn _and_ Sharon? At the same time? How was that even possible, and what was that about anyway. What was wrong with the world, and a car accident? Were they freaking kidding him? When was it all going to stop. When were they all going to get a break. Life was finally good. It was _good_. Now there was a car accident? Rusty felt his eyes beginning to burn. He nodded, woodenly, to indicate that he'd heard and understood what Buzz had said. Even if he couldn't quite digest it all yet, he heard it.

"Take a minute," Buzz said. He had certainly needed one. "Breathe, Rusty. Take a minute and breathe." Buzz waited until some of the color returned to his face. "Okay?"

"Not really." Rusty gave him a long look. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," he agreed. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." He stood, grabbing his jacket, and leaving the rest. He wasn't really ready, but he wasn't going to stay there either.

"Okay." Buzz walked him out. He stopped long enough to get his own jacket, and to close down his computer. They met Taylor as they were leaving the Murder Room.

He took one look at Rusty and nodded. "I'm driving," he announced. "You two are with me." He indicated for them to follow him as they continued down the corridor to the elevators. He cast a look at Rusty again. "I called the Captain's son. Richard is notifying his sister. My secretary is making the flight arrangements. He'll leave Houston within the hour and be here this evening. Getting the other one here from New York is a little harder." He paused as the elevator doors opened and ushered Buzz and the boy in ahead of him. "But we'll get her here."

Rusty looked up at Buzz and swallowed thickly. "It's that bad?"

"Bad enough," he replied honestly. "Even if it isn't, they'll want to be here." He paused, tilted his head at the teenager. "Wouldn't you?"

He drew a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I would."

Silence descended on the elevator car. That ride seemed to take forever. Eventually they reached the lobby and left through the exit to the parking garage.

When they reached the hospital, it was to find the team gathered in the waiting room outside the ER. Rusty scanned the crowd, and upon spotting Provenza, he rushed ahead of the others. "Did they say anything yet? How is she?"

Provenza stood when he neared and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Not yet. The doctors are with her now. She was awake when they arrived, that's all we know, but it's good. Flynn is in surgery." He cast a look behind Rusty at Taylor and Buzz. "He had some internal bleeding, they took him into surgery right before we got here, but he spoke to Nicole. She called me, she's on her way."

Taylor nodded. "We're working on getting the Captain's kids here," he explained. "They'll be on the ground by tonight."

"What happens now?" Rusty looked around the group.

"We wait." Sanchez said quietly. "Now, all we can do is just wait." He glanced up from where he sat. That was the part that was always the hardest. Until it got harder.


	8. Chapter 8

Unconditionally - Chapter 8

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

_"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, _

_while loving someone deeply gives you courage.__"_

— _Lao Tzu_

The murmur of quite voices cut through the fog. It was an odd feeling, not altogether pleasant. There was a memory of pain, fluttering at the edge of awareness. It was there, but the haze of medication kept it at bay, made it less important. Her mouth was dry, it felt like cotton, and her throat was sore, as though she had been swallowing sandpaper. Sharon hummed quietly. She frowned at the heavy feel of her eyes and attempted to force them open. When she did, the room shifted slowly into focus, spinning just a bit. She closed her eyes again and waited for the eerie feeling to recede, just a bit. Then she tried again. Her eyes blinked, quickly. The voices had stopped, and she tried to shift on the mattress beneath her, but her body felt as though a ton of bricks had been dropped on it. "Hmm."

"Sharon." Rusty had been curled in the chair in the corner. He was listening to Provenza talk to Ricky. Sharon's son had arrived a couple of hours before, while she was still in surgery. The doctors had assured them she would wake up, but it wasn't until she did that he really felt like he could breathe again. He pushed out of the chair and moved closer to the bed, alongside the others.

"Mom, don't move." Ricky laid a hand on her arm, stilling her. "It's okay." He gave her a relieved smile. "You're not going to feel so great. Are you in pain?" He pulled the lead for the morphine drip closer, so that she could reach it with more ease.

"What happened?" It was more than just a bit hazy. She could vaguely remember being in the car, and then the rest was a jumble. Maybe that was a good idea. Sharon forced her eyes open again. Her gaze swept the faces hovering over her and landed on her Lieutenant. "Andy?" They exchanged looks in a way that made the invisible weight on her chest press down harder.

When the heart monitor beside the bed beeped faster, Rusty cast an alarmed look at the other two. "Sharon, you have to chill out, okay."

"He's in ICU," Provenza laid a hand on the bed rail, which was raised on her left side. "He had surgery to repair some internal injuries, it was more extensive than they thought. They think he'll be okay, but they're keeping him in there to make sure. So far, he's doing fine. He's pretty out of it, they're keeping him sedated. He's going to be in some pain when he wakes up and…"

He couldn't have anything narcotic for the pain. Not that he would accept. Sharon drew a breath and winced. Andy would worry that it would affect his recovery from the alcohol addiction. Each drug could be a gateway for the other. "What happened?"

"A car struck you coming through the intersection. It ran the red light, the damned fool was on his phone and not paying attention. I don't know what happened with him, but the other car involved, that driver was okay. Taylor turned our case over to FID and Robbery-Homicide. So don't worry about that. Jason Allen showed up to see his mother, they picked him up two hours ago. He's in custody, so everything is fine. It'll work out." Provenza tapped his fingers against the rail. "Nicole is here, she's up with her dad, but…" He grimaced. "The ex-wife came with her, and she's making a general spectacle of herself. You, on the other hand, shouldn't worry about any of that. We are looking after everything."

"Lieutenant Tao and Amy went to get food for everyone," Rusty said. "Julio won't leave the hospital. He's upstairs keeping an eye on Lieutenant Flynn while we're all down here. Buzz went back to the station to get everything Robbery-Homicide would need for the case, but he'll be back soon. Everything is okay, Sharon. Really."

"Isabelle is in the air," Ricky reported. "She'll be landing in a couple of hours. I'll pick her up, and we're camping out at the condo with Rusty, so no worries." He glanced at her monitors before smiling down at her. "See, you were out for a little while, and the world did not end. That's just evidence that you are going to rest and not worry. We have everything under control." He paused, smile fading. "You have to rest, mom. You've been through a lot. You've got a pretty bad concussion, and they had to operate on your leg to repair the damage there," he nodded to her elevated, right leg. "You have some bruised ribs, but luckily, nothing was broken."

"Surprisingly," Provenza stated. "Despite his complaints and temper, Flynn was the worst of it. He's too stubborn to let that bother him, he'll be up and irritating everyone soon enough."

"Hmm." Now that they were pointing out her injuries, she was starting to feel them a little more. Sharon let her eyes close again and frowned. "The fact that you're all working so hard to reassure me is having the opposite effect." She forced her eyes open again and focused on her sons. "Ricky… Can I…" she indicated the pitcher near his elbow. It was difficult to talk past the dryness in her mouth and throat.

"A sip or two," he poured water into the cup and moved closer to help her maneuver the straw.

"Better, thank you." Sharon reached up and gingerly pushed her hair back from her face. Her arm was sore, actually, now that she thought about it, everything was sore. Pain was pushing through the haze of the drugs. "I want to see him." She fixed Provenza with a hard look. "If Joanna is here, and being difficult, he isn't going to be able to rest. He'll get worked up, and—"

"And nothing." Provenza pointed a finger at her. "We have it under control. I understand, I do, but you aren't going anywhere for a while."

"Mom, you just had surgery," Ricky reminded her. He laid a hand on her arm. "You can't go wondering around the hospital just yet."

"No," Sharon said calmly. "I had surgery a couple of hours ago. Richard, I am not a child." She stared hard at her son. "I'm sorry that you've been worried about me, truly, but I am not going to just lay here."

"I swear." Provenza shook his head. "The both of you are idiots. Damned fools. More trouble…" He scowled at her. "Do you have any idea the headache that the pair of you have caused me today? First, I have Flynn making an ass of himself with Fire and Rescue because they were getting him out of the car first, so that they could even get to you. Now, I've got you making an ass out of yourself wanting to go and see him, when really what all of us could use, is the two of you acting like adults for five damned minutes." He pointed his finger at her again and shook it. "You are going to lay there. You are going to rest, and I don't want to hear another word about it. Not everything is about your sordid little romance."

Sharon sank back in the bed, looking duly chastised. "It is not sordid," she muttered. She clasped her hands together against her stomach and sighed. They were rather worried about her, and if she was honest with herself, the thought of getting up did make her hurt in ways she wished would stop. At the same time, knowing that Andy was injured, on a separate floor and being unable to see him… left to the mercies of his ex-wife… that was more painful than she could name. The morphine wouldn't do anything for that ache. Sharon chewed on her bottom lip. Tears were stinging her eyes. "Louie…"

"Yes, I know." He huffed a sigh. "Look, it's late anyway. Visiting hours are almost over in the ICU. By the time we got you in there past Joanna, you wouldn't get to see him for very long. Besides which, are you really up to dealing with _her _right now? She's not exactly a fan of yours on a good day. Wait until morning, not just for you, but do it for Nicole too. You would be absolutely right, in everything you'd end up saying to Joanna, but it's too much right now. For you and for Nicole, so just wait."

She hated when he was the voice of reason. Sharon laid back and closed her eyes. "Fine." Her tone was clipped, but resigned. She sighed, hit the button for the morphine. If they weren't going to allow her to see him tonight, then she wouldn't lay there in pain. That was simply ridiculous. "Rusty, honey, I don't want you staying here all night. Either of you," she glanced at Ricky too. "After your sister gets here, I'd like you to take them both back to the condo. Honestly though, you didn't both have to rush out here. I'm fine…"

"Told you." Rusty smirked at Ricky. He looked at his watch and nodded. "Not even the first half hour. You owe me twenty. She admonished you for making the trip just minutes after waking up."

"That just makes her predictable," Ricky pointed out with a small grin. "I'll get the kids back to the condo." He shook his head at her. "Anything else?"

She sniffed at them. "Well, I would prefer it if my own children didn't talk about me like I wasn't here. Other than that…" Her eyes were drifting again. "Rusty, you should go to school tomorrow. At least the morning classes, your finals are getting too close for you to miss any days."

"That's me winning my twenty back," Ricky pointed out. "I knew she'd make you go to school."

"Like you said," Rusty shrugged, feeling slightly more relieved. "Predictable. But in no way am I going to school, Sharon. Really? You hit your head harder than we thought." He folded his arms across his chest.

"Lieutenant?" Sharon kept her eyes closed but nodded in his general direction.

"He's going to school." Provenza smirked. "I'll make sure he goes, to the morning classes at least. We'll arrange for pick up at lunch," he gave the boy a pointed look. "She wants you in school, you go to school young man."

Rusty huffed, more teasing than exasperated. "I should have known you'd take her side."

"We cantankerous old folks have to stay together," he grinned.

"We?" Sharon's brows lifted, her eyes opened. She groaned, there were two of him. "Ricky, honey, the morphine is too strong. There are two of him. Make them lower the dose, please?"

"Sure thing." He grinned crookedly.

"That's a good boy." She shifted again, and winced. It was hard to get comfortable with her leg elevated as it was. Sharon sighed. "I'm going to nap. You'll wake me when Isabelle gets here?"

"You should rest, but yes," Ricky told her. "I'll wake you when she gets here, so you can see her before we all leave." He bent down and kissed the top of her head, careful of the injured side. "We're going to back out to the waiting room, we'll be back mom."

Provenza ushered both boys out of the room and closed the door behind him. "I'm going back upstairs," he told them. "I'll send Sanchez down to sit with you." The team was moving back and forth between two waiting rooms. He would get Mike and Amy to leave, after they returned with the food and the team had eaten. He doubted he would get Sanchez to leave, but between the two of them they could keep an eye on both Flynn and the Captain.

"Okay." Rusty shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "She seemed okay, right? She wasn't too out of it."

"She was great." Ricky looked more relieved, now that she had been conscious. "I was worried about the head injury, but it was fine. She's going to have some pretty unpleasant headaches, and they'll have to keep watching her, but it was a really good sign that she was cognizant."

Rusty nodded slowly. His attention shifted back to the Lieutenant. "You'll let us know how Lieutenant Flynn is?"

"I'll keep you updated." He sighed, but smirked. "Otherwise she'll be escaping to find out for herself. Damned fools," he muttered as he walked away. "This is what happens when idiots decide they're in _love_." He gave them a vague wave as he moved down the hall.

Ricky's lips pursed, he gave Rusty a thoughtful look. "So, I take it mom has a new boyfriend. That's… interesting."

"Foolish idiots in love," Rusty stated with a grin. "It's disgusting."

"That's what I'm guessing." The two of them went the opposite direction as the Lieutenant, heading toward the waiting room on that floor. "Rusty, it occurs to me that I haven't been a very good _brother_. We need to talk about what constitutes taking care of mom. There's a whole set of rules about boyfriends."

"Uh…" He shifted, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "You know, she's not my—"

"Dude." Ricky laid a hand on his shoulder. "You got mom'd. Give it up. You can protest it until the moon turns green, but we both know it's all just so much hot air at this point. You've got issues, she's got issues, we all have issues. We're as dysfunctionally normal as the rest of the world, it's all good. We are accepting of our weirdness. Quit squirming about it. Just accept it. You're hers now, and she's not letting you go. I don't see you sprinting to get away, I mean, it's just so terrible how you're screaming for help and all these cops aren't doing a damned thing to save you." Ricky gave him a crooked grin. "Seriously."

"Can we just not label it?" Rusty sighed. Sharon's son was right. He wasn't exactly in any hurry to escape, and he really doubted he ever would be. "I have a mom, and… she wasn't that great, okay? I mean, she was, a long time ago. Now she isn't. I don't want to compare the two. It doesn't feel right."

"That I can understand. I have a dad, and he's a bastard. If I had another one, I wouldn't want to compare the two either." Ricky paused. "Don't tell mom I said that about him. She gets weird about it."

"I've noticed." Rusty nodded. "Okay, you're secret is safe with me. There are rules?" He squinted at him. "You really are her kid aren't you?"

Ricky laughed. They entered the break room and he walked over to pour two cups of coffee. He took his black, with just a little sugar, and watched as Rusty heaped cream and more sugar into his own. "Yeah, okay, you have been around her for a while haven't you? Alright, so there are _rules_. When the maternal unit begins dating, it is the remaining sibling's job to inform the others, _immediately_, of a change in status. This is so that the offspring not living in the general vicinity are not blindsided by the supreme grossness of realizing mom is having… relations."

"Oh. Yuck." Rusty made a face. "It's bad enough I have to live with it. Can we not discuss it?" He gave a full body shudder and sat down. "Really. There are things that Sharon and I just do not talk about and _that_ is definitely one of them."

"I get that." Ricky acknowledged. "I don't want to talk to her about it either, that's why I'm asking _you_. Rules, remember? You tell us so that none of us have to talk to _her_ about it." He sat in a chair across from him and got comfortable, or as comfortable as one could get in the wooden waiting room chairs with the thin cushions. It was like hospitals all ordered from the same crappy catalogue. "Speak."

Rusty sighed. He ran a hand over his hair and took a long sip from his cup. That was rank stuff. He'd rather have a soda, but it didn't have nearly enough caffeine, and Sharon would flip if he got an energy drink. She despised those things. "I don't know. They've known each other for a while." He shrugged. "They went on a couple of dates. It started after Jack was here last summer. You know how she is, she doesn't really… you know, it's none of my business so we don't talk about it, and that's okay with me. There was a lot going on last year, and earlier this year, I'm not really sure exactly when it happened. I just… kind of woke up one day and Lieutenant Flynn was around all the time. Not literally, but it felt like that."

"Hm." He tapped his fingers against his lips. "Yes, I know what mom is like. She does _not_ like to discuss what is going on with her. She's old school like that. I guess it would take dad showing up and acting like a complete ass for mom to finally wake up and smell the divorce papers, although…" Ricky shrugged. "If mom was already convinced she was keeping you, she's big on not repeating mistakes. She'd get rid of him before she'd go down that road again. The one where dad becomes a disappointment to more than just the two kids they had together. Also, I could pretty much see her wiping her hands of the whole situation if there was someone else around that was not treating her like so much dirt." He looked into his cup for a few moments. "This guy, Flynn, he's alright? I mean, he treats her okay?"

"Huh?" It seemed like such an odd question. Rusty blinked at him for a few seconds. Then he began nodding, almost spastically. "Oh yeah. Totally. I mean, he's on her team, and he can be grumpy, but with Sharon he's okay. All the guys on the team are great." He shrugged, feeling slightly awkward. "They've been really good to both of us."

"Well, that's good." Ricky smirked. "Although, if mom would tell us these things - or if you had told us, then we wouldn't all be meeting like this for the first time." Meaning Isabelle, himself, and the boyfriend. "Remind me to tell her that."

"Yeah, sure." Rusty snorted. "You betcha." He slumped in his chair. "I'm not having any part of that conversation, just for the record."

"Chicken." Ricky sniffed, but hid a smirk behind his plastic cup.

"I'm okay with that." Rusty nodded to himself. "She doesn't like it when we meddle. Considering I just got off house arrest, pretty much literally, I'm not participating in any meddling."

"Okay, now it's time for us to discuss the other rules." Ricky grinned at him. "United front. Also known as being outnumbered."

"Yeah." Rusty sighed. "I was afraid that's what it meant."

"Chin up, Rusty Beck, you're one of us now."

"Yet somehow, I'm not feeling vast amounts of confidence," he decided.

"Don't worry." There was a gleeful look in Ricky's eyes. "We'll fix that too."

Rusty sighed. He was afraid he'd say that. He was really hoping Sharon was better soon, for more than the obvious reasons. Or maybe Buzz would get back. At this point, he was even hoping for Amy.

Upstairs, in the fifth floor ICU waiting room, Provenza nodded at Sanchez to join him near the door. The Detective was looking a little brittle around the edges, but Joanna had that effect on most people. "Any more news?"

Julio shook his head. "Nicole is still back there. We haven't heard anymore. How is the Captain?"

Provenza could breathe, just a little easier now, being able to deliver some positive news. "Awake and giving orders." His lips twisted into an almost smile. "Not even morphine can reduce the effect of the Wicked Witch."

Sanchez's shoulders relaxed, losing some of their tension. "That's good news, Sir. What about the kid, does someone need to get him home? I can have patrol arrange a ride…"

"No, not yet," the Lieutenant said. "They're waiting on the daughter. After she's seen her mother, the kids are going back to the Captain's apartment. All three of them. She has left instructions for Rusty to go to school tomorrow. I told him we'd have someone pick him up at lunch and bring him back here." Provenza shrugged. "Doctors usually do their rounds in the morning, and any tests or what not. I figure he won't get to see her much anyway. Also, she's demanding, and I do mean _demanding_ to see Flynn. We'll probably have some fireworks on our hands in the morning," he indicated the former Mrs. Flynn who was paging through a magazine on the other side of the room. "Rusty doesn't need to be here for all that."

"I agree." Sanchez rubbed his thumb across his brow. "Alright, what would you like for me to do? I can stay here if you'd like to go home, sir. You should get some rest too."

"No." He shut down that line of thought immediately. "I'll stay up here with the Flynn bunch. I'm used to handling them. I'd like for you to go down, keep an eye on the Captain and her crew."

"I can do that. I'll call you if anything down there changes." Sanchez went back to the chair he had been occupying and grabbed his suit jacket.

"Likewise, Julio." Provenza waited for him to leave before he squared his shoulders and steadied himself for dealing with Flynn's dysfunctional clan. By his way of thinking he had been around longer than Joanna had the last several years. That and the divorce gave him more right to be present than the ex-wife. Provenza strode to the ICU entrance and sauntered through, without sparing Joanna a glance. He walked down a short corridor and entered through another set of double doors.

The main ICU consisted of several small rooms surrounding a central nursing station. Each was glass enclosed with sliding doors, and lateral blinds for privacy. He strode toward room five, where Flynn was currently laying. The glass door was half open, Provenza tapped it lightly and pushed it farther aside. "Nicole," he spoke quietly, in deference to his sleeping partner.

Her blonde head lifted and turned toward him. She rose from the chair she was seated in and joined him at the door. "Lieutenant. Can I help you?"

She was at least being polite, in that much she differed from her mother. "I wanted to check on him. How is he?"

"Resting," she sighed tiredly, but offered a smile. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I should let you sit with him for a while. I just thought that if I was here, my mother wouldn't be… his blood pressure tends to spike when she's around."

"I imagine hers does too," Provenza offered, by way of extending an olive branch. "You stay here, that's what he'd like. I just had some news. When he wakes up again…"

"You could tell me yourself," the thick, gruff voice rose from the bed. "I'm not dead yet, you old tyrant." Andy squinted at the pair standing near the door. "I have to quit waking up like this. It's not healthy."

"You don't say." Provenza glanced toward the nurses' station before shuffling into the room. They wouldn't crow at them for a few minutes. Although, now that he thought about it, it was usually two at a time, wasn't it? He passed that thought side and walked over to stand near the foot of the bed. "When you stop getting yourself into these messes, you'll stop waking up like this."

"Funny guy." Andy grunted at the pain in his middle. It was rather considerable and a lot worse than the knife wound from a few years ago. "Hurry up and tell me so I can pass out again, yeah? This hurts like hell."

"They'll be in to sedate him again when they realize it's worn off," Nicole stated. "Dad, try to stay still. If you can't do that, then you should consider letting them give you the pain medication."

"Can't do that, Nic." He laid a hand gingerly across his middle. "It's not worth the risk. I can handle it."

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms over her chest. She thought he was being stubborn, but she wasn't going to argue with him. "Lieutenant, you said you had news?"

"Your father and his girlfriend are both dunderheads," he told her. "But that isn't news. She's awake," he told Flynn. "Sharon came too a little while ago, at least for a few minutes. She was okay. In some pain, so they've got her on some meds, it knocked her out again. She was giving orders, so I think she's going to be just fine. None of her injuries were too serious, she has a concussion, they had to operate on her leg to fix a deep gash. She's pretty banged up otherwise, but far more hard headed than you are, apparently."

"Well, we knew that." Flynn let his head fall back. A small smile softened the pained expression on his face. "Good. That's good." He could relax now, knowing that she was going to be okay. He would rather see her, but knew that Provenza wouldn't sugar coat it. "Nic, let the nurse know." He was ready to go back under, the throbbing was beginning to overwhelm him.

Provenza waited until she slipped out of the room to sigh. "Rusty is with the Captain's son. Everything is taken care of. Anything you'd like me to send back that way?"

"Tell her to behave," he winced. "She should stay put. I don't want her strong arming her way in here. It isn't worth it, I'm not much to look at right now." It cost him more to say it than it did to imagine having to go several days without her, but compared to losing her completely, it was a small price to pay. "Louie… don't let Joanna chase her off. I know she's here with Nic. Just… you'll take care of it for me?"

"As if she could." Provenza nodded. "I'll take care of it. You just keep breathing. Don't go doing anything stupid like having a heart attack."

"You know, I always try to _not_ do the stupid thing." Flynn winced again and screwed his eyes shut. "Go home, Louie. You look like hell."

"You look worse." He stepped back when the nurse appeared, followed by Nicole. "I'm going to go check in with the others. I'll see you later." He turned to Nicole. "You'll call me if anything changes?"

"Of course, Lieutenant. Thank you." She glanced toward her father. The nurse had injected something into the IV. It wouldn't be long before he was sinking back under. "Lieutenant," she touched his arm before he could turn away completely. Nicole smiled at him. "My mother won't stay all night. She'll be leaving soon. I doubt very much that she will be here early tomorrow, it will probably be after nine. She doesn't like her morning routine being disrupted."

Provenza's brows lifted. He smiled. "I'll keep that in mind. Try to get some rest, Nicole. He won't want you exhausting yourself. Go home, get some sleep. The squad will keep an eye on everything here."

"Maybe in a little while," she made no promises. "We'll see how he's doing in a few hours." She worried about the strain of the sedation and the pain on his heart. If he remained stable for a few more hours, she would run home for a nap and a shower, and to check on her stepsons.

He glanced back at the bed. His partner's face had not relaxed yet, although he was less aware and already sinking under. Provenza sighed and headed back out to the waiting room. Joanna was still sitting with her magazine, looking unconcerned. He rolled his eyes and went to the opposite side of the room. There, he sank gratefully into a chair. His old bones were slow to settle. His body ached with old age and worry. Damned foolish idiots. He was getting too old for this nonsense.


	9. Chapter 9

Unconditionally - Chapter 9

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

"_You can__'__t measure the mutual affection_

_of two human beings by the _

_number of words they exchange.__" _

— _Milan Kundera_

The presence of her daughter did nothing to persuade Sharon from her objective once morning was upon them. She had already decided that she was going to be making the trip to the fifth floor Intensive Care Unit, with or without the assistance of her grown offspring. She was also doing it whether or not the medical staff thought it was a particularly good idea. They wanted her up and moving around, she chose to ignore the part of her medical directive that included staying on the third floor.

It was amusing and somewhat sweet that Richard and Isabelle had decided that they could team up to convince her otherwise. Sharon waited while they gave her all of their, quite obviously, rehearsed arguments. Then she smiled and told them to get a wheel chair. They did so, reluctantly. Richard protested the most, reminding her at almost every turn that they had paid a considerable amount of money for him to be telling her, definitively, that she should not be doing what she was doing. There was only so much that Sharon's patience could stand. If Richard wouldn't help her, she told him that she would send for one of her squad. Detective Sanchez, or perhaps Buzz would be willing to assist her.

Ricky caved, as she had known that he would. She would feel badly later about manipulating him so, and by the time he had her seated and situated in the wheelchair, Sharon was wishing that she had listened to him. Every part of her body ached, and she couldn't decide which was throbbing more, her leg or her head. While Ricky moved her IV to the stand attached to the wheelchair, Sharon rested her head in her hand and drew long, careful breaths. Isabelle had brought her a change of clothes, and while she was in considerable pain, she was at least comfortable in her own silken robe.

Although he sighed at how pale she had become, Ricky folded a blanket and draped it carefully over her legs. He wouldn't tell her that it was a mistake, he had a feeling she was realizing that for herself. "Mom…" He knelt in front of her. "You could wait, at least until after this afternoon."

She lifted her head and fought the spinning of the room. Sharon sighed softly. "Ricky, please?" It was just so awkward and terrible, she couldn't explain to her own children just how necessary this was, or the abject panic she felt and would continue to feel until she could see him, at least for a few minutes. "I don't mean to be difficult, honey, but I need to do this."

Isabelle shrugged when he looked up at her. She could only join him in this helpless feeling. It was all very new and incredibly unusual. For them, at the very least. It was never like this with their father. Of course, he wasn't around much, and when he was, they didn't see much to evidence that it should have been like this. She shared a look with her brother, what could they do? They had found enough in the condo the night before to tell them that, whoever this guy was, he was practically living there. From what Rusty had told them, they spent little time at his place, their mother didn't want to leave her teenage ward alone. That much, at least, fit their vision of who their mother was.

"Okay mom," Isabelle stated. "Just relax, okay? We'll take you up to see the boyfriend. Whoever this guy is that you've never told us about."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "If you really want to have this conversation, we can. I'd much rather it wait until I'm not occupying a hospital bed. Or a wheelchair," she added, when she could see Isabelle getting ready to protest. "Although, I could point out, grown children who live their lives thousands of miles from their mother have no reason to protest their lack of knowledge at mother's relationships."

"We didn't even get to talk about it yet and she shut us down," Isabelle told her brother.

"She's good like that." Ricky stood up from where he was kneeling in front of her. "Okay, let's do this thing before you start to wilt."

"Or the ex-wife shows up again," Isabelle chirped. When her brother glared at her she shrugged. "What? I heard what the one old guy was saying to the Latino guy. I get the distinct impression she doesn't like you, mom. What did you do?"

"It's not about me, sweetheart." Sharon waved a hand forward. "Ricky, let's go." She settled back, trying to get comfortable. "I can't really expand on it much, it's not my place to discuss it, no matter what my relationship is with Andy."

"Okay, so the point is, she doesn't like him much," Isabelle continued. "What did he do?"

Sharon sighed. "He breathes," she said dryly.

Ricky chuckled as he moved behind the wheel chair. "Iz, get the door will you?" He waited for her to pull it open before he pushed his mother through. They took the long way to the elevator wanting to bypass the nursing station as much as possible.

They reached the ICU a few minutes later. The waiting room outside was only sparsely populated at that time of the morning. It was only just after eight, and aside from a few who had loved ones in the hospital, only Lieutenant Provenza was present. He had gone home only long enough to shower and change, and had returned to continue his vigil. He looked up, frowning when he spotted the Captain and her children.

"Well," he grunted. "At least I can be comforted by the fact that the two of you can't control her any better than the rest of us."

Isabelle giggled quietly. "Oh Rick, it's so cute. He thinks mom can be controlled at all."

"It is somewhat, isn't it?" He tilted his head and grinned crookedly. "They don't know her that well, just yet. Give them time, Iz. They'll catch on eventually."

Sharon's eyes narrowed. "I can hear you."

The siblings looked at each other and shrugged before turning their blue-eyed gazes on the Lieutenant. They had their father's coloring, but Provenza could see the Captain in their faces, and in the way they carried themselves. The girl was built like her mother, although much thinner. He thought perhaps she was too thin, but what did he know of ballet. "Well, come on then," he grumbled. "Let's get you in there to see the other idiot." He walked over and hit the button for the automatic doors. Once they opened, he took over the wheelchair. Ricky and Isabelle wouldn't be able to join them. "I've got her," he told them. "You two go find something to eat. I'll keep her from acting like too much of a lovesick fool."

Isabelle decided, at once, that she liked him. "Good luck with that. We tried, we failed. Oh, and she's cranky. Her mouth will open, and she's going to try and push you around, but be strong."

Sharon slanted a look at her daughter. "Isabelle."

She simply wriggled her fingers at them in a cheerful wave. "Come on Rick. Food!"

"Yes, before you waste away to nothing," Sharon stated. "Richard, take care of your sister, please."

He rubbed his hands together and grinned, all too gleefully. "Sure thing. We'll be back soon. Curfew is nine am, mom." He flashed a lopsided grin that was only too reminiscent of his father and hooked an arm around his sister's shoulders. "Come along little starving ballerina. Let's feed you."

"Hey. I eat!" She pouted as they turned to leave.

"Sure you do. What did you eat yesterday," he questioned.

"I had pizza and tacos." She flashed a triumphant look. "I have a very high metabolism."

"What _kind_ of pizza and tacos," he poked her side.

"Vegetarian pizza on whole wheat dough," she admitted. "Turkey tacos. But hey, pizza and tacos. So shush Doctor Raydor."

The sounds of their voices trailed off when the doors closed, separating them from the waiting room. Sharon sighed. "I haven't decided yet if my head hurts because I have a concussion, or if it's from listening to the two of them. I love my children, but it's been too long since I was exposed to one of their sibling debates."

"Considering the fact that you give me a headache all the time," Provenza pointed out. "It must be them and it's genetic." He took hold of her wheelchair and pushed it forward.

"Well, aren't you cheerful. We should send you home to get a nap, spending all night in the hospital hasn't done anything for your sunny disposition." She leaned back heavily in the chair, wilting a little more now that her kids weren't there to see her.

"Interesting isn't it?" He scowled at the top of her head. "Just like getting bonked on the head hasn't done anything for your good sense. Oh, wait, you don't have any. I must be tired if I've forgotten."

"Lieutenant." She tilted her head. Her body was too sore to look back at him. "I am only going to be willing to take so much. Let us not forget our lessons in civility."

"Ah, ah, ah," he grinned, all too happily. "You're on medical leave for the foreseeable future, therefore, you are not the boss of me right now."

Sharon opened her mouth to reply, but found that she had none. Instead, she pressed her lips together and grunted. That was simply no good. She clasped her hands together in her lap and sighed. "Very well. I suppose even the flying monkey must be left in charge from time to time."

Provenza chortled. He pushed her through the second set of doors, after queuing the automatic release. Nicole was still with her father, she had returned only an hour before. "Well, here we are, special idiot delivery." The Lieutenant pushed the wheelchair into the room, near the bed, and grunted when he bent to lock the wheels.

"Sharon." Nicole stood immediately. She winced when she saw her. "They said it was bad, but I didn't realize." She hurried around the bed, to the opposite side, and laid a hand on her shoulder, briefly. "How are you?"

"I've had better days," She admitted. Her eyes, however, had not strayed from Andy since entering the room. She drew a long breath, let it fill her aching chest. He was so battered, and looked so pale laying there. She reached out, despite the pain it caused her, and brushed her fingers against the hand laying at his side. "How is he?"

"Ask him yourself," Nicole smiled at her. "They're reducing the sedation. He's going to be in lot of pain, but it wasn't a long term solution. They're giving him what they can of the non-narcotic pain relievers, but it's only barely taking the edge off. His doctor was just here…"

He looked like he was sleeping, and Sharon was loath to wake him, but needed to see _him_. Her fingers stroked his again before her hand closed around his. "Andy."

His eyes fluttered. He tried twice before getting them to stay open. The pain made him groan, but it wasn't as bad as the previous night. It wasn't great either. He looked toward the source of his name and managed a smile. "Hey…" He turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. "I see you managed to escape."

"I'm not fond of _taking_ orders," she reminded him. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "How bad is it?"

"You're still gorgeous," he gave her a lopsided grin.

"_Andy_." That wasn't what she meant, and he knew it.

He sighed, and winced at the pain it caused him. "It's pretty bad, babe. But it will get better. Don't worry about it."

"You know I will." Her gaze moved over him, taking in every cut, bruise, and bandage. "Andy, the strain can't be good for you. Take the medication." She squeezed his hand when he scowled, preparing to protest. "I understand your reasons, I do, and I respect them. But please?"

His jaw clenched. "If it gets so bad I can't stand it, I will." He didn't want her worrying for him, but it wasn't the first time his past as an alcoholic had caused him physical pain. "Okay?"

He wouldn't, she knew him too well. She had tried, at least, and that was all that she could do. "Okay."

Andy squeezed her hand. He let his eyes roam over her. How she was managing to stay upright in the wheelchair, he didn't know. He could see the strain of it in her eyes. She was in pain, but would never admit to it. There was a cut, running the length of her hairline from her right temple to almost her ear. The deeper portions had been stitched, and they'd used butterfly closures rather than a bandage. Her cheek was bruised, and there was a myriad of cuts and bruises covering her arms. With the way she kept her other arm wrapped around her middle, he could tell that her ribs were bothering her. He remembered his partner telling him they were bruised, but not broken. Andy sighed. He looked up at his daughter and Provenza. "Could you two give us a couple of minutes?"

"Sure. I could use some coffee anyway," Nicole moved toward the door. "Buy you a cup?"

"I never turn down free coffee," Provenza followed her, although a little hesitantly. He supposed there were enough nurses nearby to keep an eye on the two of them.

Sharon waited until they were alone to reach down and unlock the wheels of her chair. She groaned, quietly, but with some effort, she managed to turn her chair and put it close enough to his bed that she could touch him with more ease. "I think your partner is trying to kill me," she decided. Her body was now throbbing quite a bit more keenly, but there was morphine waiting in her room.

"Actually, I think the general consensus is that we're just idiots." He reached out and was able to brush the back of his hand against her cheek. When she clasped his hand against her warm skin, he sighed. He hated seeing her in pain, but it was pretty much mutual at this point.

"Yes, so I've heard," she said in a wry tone. "My children just think I'm insane. That's a bit of a relief, at least. The older two, anyway. The youngest is on our side."

"Well, that's something. Always liked that kid." His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you came, but you should have stayed in bed, Sharon. You've got a head injury."

"It's a concussion." She lifted his hand back to her lips. "It's not my first. Would you have stayed in bed?"

"I did, actually." He flashed a lopsided grin at her. "You came to me, remember?"

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Not funny."

"I know." He sighed. It was killing him, not really being able to touch her. "I'm okay. It takes more than a bad driver to get rid of me, you too from the looks of it. Sharon, I…"

"I know." Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. They had both had a few bad moments. "Andy, I'm so sorry. I've allowed both of us to be compromised. I wouldn't change it, not for a minute, but I am sorry that it's made all of this so much more difficult."

"Don't…" His fingers stroked the curve of her cheek. "Sweetheart, don't cry when I can't hold you."

Sharon sniffled pitifully and pressed her lips into a thin line. She made a concerted effort to force back the wave of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her, but it was getting harder to do. First with Rusty, now with Andy, it was so much easier to maintain control of her emotions when she was alone. At the same time, she wasn't willing to give either of them back. That still left her feeling rather unsteady, at least some of the time. "I think that could be remedied." She made sure the wheels on the chair were locked down again. It was going to hurt like hell, but she braced herself for it.

"Sharon, don't." A sense of panic filled him. With a grimace, he shifted himself up in the bed. "You're insane."

"That's what they keep telling us, isn't it." It took much more effort to push herself up than she imagined. Ricky had lifted her from the bed to the chair. Her body throbbed keenly, the room threatened to tilt on its end, but she held tightly on the arms of the chair. She couldn't put much weight on her leg, but she was only going from the chair to the bed, and had to figure out the mechanics of that sooner or later. The IV was a little trickier, but she managed to disconnect it from the chair and hang it up alongside his. That caused her to put more weight on her injured right leg than she would have liked. Sharon cursed, quite soundly enough to have Andy barking with laughter at the unusual sound coming out of her mouth, but hitched her hip sideways and managed to land on the bed.

Between the two of them and a lot of groaning, wincing, and cursing, they got her arranged alongside him. They each had injuries they had to be careful of, and Sharon made sure to press herself to his side, rather than his middle. She laced her fingers with his and turned her face into his shoulder when his arm curled around her. "Tell me again I can't," she muttered with a pained smile.

Andy grunted. "Stubborn witch. This might not be a very good idea."

"Probably not," she agreed. Now they were both in considerable amounts of more pain. "I'm not sure I really care at the moment."

"Yeah." He slipped his hand into her hair and gently massaged her scalp. "Me either." He was exhausted now, from the effort, the pain, and the lingering sedatives in his body. "I think I'm in love with a nutjob."

She giggled quietly. "Welcome to my world. How are you liking it so far?"

"It's actually pretty great." He turned his head slightly and pressed his lips against her forehead. They were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat from the exertion. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Nor did the eventual protestations that would come from being found this way. Andy concentrated on just breathing for a few moments, that and the warmth of her pressed to his side was enough to almost make him forget how badly it hurt. Almost. He closed his eyes against all the various aches and pains.

"Hmm." She slipped her hand up to rest over his heart and quietly counted the beats, echoed by the constant chirping of the monitor at the head of his bed.

"I love you," he said quietly. "I realized yesterday that I don't say that nearly enough."

She lifted her head and gave him a watery smile. "Andy, I know." She touched the curve of his jaw. The first graze of stubble tickled her fingertips. "You tell me everyday, in a thousand different ways. I don't need words. I need you."

His thumb swept the curve of her cheek, gentle against the bruised skin. "You have me," he assured her.

She hummed softly and tipped her face up to brush a kiss across his lips. "But just so you know," She murmured. "I love you."

He smiled at her. His lips touched hers, then the tip of her nose, and finally her forehead before he tucked her back against him. Andy's fingers went back to gently working her scalp. He had eased more than one headache in that manner, although he didn't expect it to cure pain by concussion. He doubted they had more than a few minutes before his daughter and Provenza returned. "Hey."

"Hmm." Her eyes were closed, she was drifting. She wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted. Getting up was going to hurt like nine kinds of hell, she knew.

"Since we're agreed that we're both insane, a couple of idiotic nut jobs," Andy began. "Why not do something completely ludicrous."

"I thought I already had." Her lips curved upward against his shoulder. "They might need a crane to lift me after that little move."

He chuckled, but it made him groan in pain. "Ouch." Andy shook his head. "Not the level of insanity I was talking about. I think this could surpass even that."

"Oh really?" She nuzzled her nose against the gap in his gown, where it was buttoned at his shoulder. "I'm listening."

"Marry me."

Sharon lifted her head and stared at him, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Marry me," he repeated with a grin. "We've got maybe five minutes before you're hauled out of here. Either my ex-wife is going to show up, and have you thrown out, or Nicole is going to come back and you'll leave so that she doesn't have to deal with Joanna. I'm so damned tired of maneuvering all these extended family dynamics. I love my girl, don't get me wrong, and I adore those boys of hers, but the world didn't stop spinning until I saw you. You crawled up here and I felt like I could breathe again. I don't want anyone telling us, anymore, that you don't belong here." He paused. "Except authorized medical personnel, of course."

"Of course," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Andy…" There was this feeling, almost like panic, threatening to crash over her. She just got out of one marriage, she wasn't sure that she was ready to enter another. She drew her bottom lip between teeth and stared at him, he was so earnest, so sure. She thought about what she might do if Joanna or Nicole attempted to stop her from seeing him while he was here. The ache that coursed through her was by far more unsettling than any fear thoughts of her own failed marriage conjured up for her.

"Sharon, I want you beside me," he said calmly. "If you're really not ready, that's fine. I'm not going anywhere. But I want you with me."

"I am," she said hoarsely, finding it hard to speak beyond the ache in her throat. "Andy, I am beside you."

He smiled, despite the hurt that her fear caused. He hated to see her so unsettled, she was usually the strong one. "I want to know you're legally required to be there." He gave her the boyish smirk that usually won her over. "There are _rules_, Sharon. We're Catholic. We can't ignore that."

It was enough to push past the sudden wave of fear that had gripped her. She snorted at him. "I'm Catholic. You are nuts."

"Hey, I thought we already agreed that we're both nuts," he pouted at her.

"I'm rethinking that theory." She laid her head back against his shoulder with a sigh. Sharon tucked herself close and considered, for just a moment, the wild turn his thoughts had taken. "Are you sure this isn't just the sedatives talking? They've had you on some pretty strong stuff, as I understand it."

"I'm sure." He smirked. "If anything, after you say yes, I'll be wondering if it was the morphine agreeing."

"After?" Her brows lifted. "You are sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I'm sure of us," he pointed out, arrogantly. "You're going to say yes. You adore me."

"Your ego is getting out of control again," she decided. "We'll need to deal with that at some point. But not right now, dear, I have a headache."

"Wondered when you'd get around to using that one, and in bed no less." His fingers combed gently through her hair again. "See, we're practically married already."

She laughed quietly. "You _are_ insane." Sharon lifted her head again. "For the sake of conversation, let's just assume that I agree to go along with this lunacy. What are you suggesting? We get a judge down here, do the deed, and tell the ex to take a hike?"

"That is without a doubt the most genius thing you've ever said." Andy sighed. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

"_Andy!_" Sharon glared at him. "I was being serious."

"So was I." He smirked. "Alright, fine, climbing back onto the logic train. Obviously, it isn't going to do us any good right _now_, but that isn't why I asked. I almost lost you yesterday, and that could happen again. We don't exactly have the safest jobs on the planet, it's not like we're engaging in menial nine to five boredom everyday. When people aren't attempting to run us off the road, they're shooting at us, trying to blow us up, and I could go on, but that would just be my experience. You're only recently back from the dungeon, I don't want to scare you back there. We can't promise that will never happen again. We don't know that we'll be able to retire together, live out the rest of our days chasing grandkids and tormenting the children, and Provenza, but it would be nice. I can think of nothing better than raising grandkids together, but who the hell can predict the future? Certainly not me, or I would have stayed the hell off Saturn Avenue."

"You know," Sharon rested her chin against his shoulder and gazed up at him. Her face settled into a warm, affectionate expression. "On a scale of one to ten, that sure beats _hey baby, do you think we oughta?_" Which was practically the proposal she had gotten from Jack thirty years ago, not in so many words, but the general sentiment of it. Andy didn't want to build a life with her, they'd already built their lives. He wanted to share it with her, but more than that, he wanted to grasp the moment. Live what they could, together, for as long as it lasted. "For someone who is supposed to be just so hot tempered and grumpy, you really are a bit of a romantic."

"Shh." He sniffed, teasingly. "You'll ruin my reputation. I've carefully crafted that image over the years. I spent hours in interrogations with bossy FID types. You can't imagine the horror!"

Sharon laughed. "Oh, I think I can picture it." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth again. "Ask me again."

"I don't know if I can stand the rejection." He made a face at her. "You're a hard audience to please, babe." When she huffed a sigh at him, he grinned. "Marry me."

She leaned up, although it hurt to do so, and touched her lips to his in a soft caress. "Yes."

"You are so high." He grinned widely and tucked her against his side again. Andy held her as close as he dared. "Never in a million years imagined you'd agree. Definitely the morphine."

She giggled. "Poor Andy. Now you're stuck with me."

"Yeah, but someone has to keep you out of trouble. You're a full time job, sweetheart."

"Is that a complaint?" She arched a brow at him, although refrained from lifting her aching head again.

There was enough warning in her tone to remind him, that although they were both incredibly injured at the moment, her memory was long and she had a multitude of ways of making him pay. "Not at all. I like to think of it as an adventure."

"Mmhm." She closed her eyes. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "You're telling Provenza."

"I'll take Provenza. You get Taylor." His hand slid down her back and rested against her hip. Exhaustion was closing in on both of them.

"Hmm…" She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "If I get Taylor, you get Provenza _and_ Rusty," she mumbled.

"I have one better," his lips moved against her forehead. His eyes had gotten too heavy to keep open. "We tell Rusty. He'll tell Provenza, and we let Provenza tell Taylor."

"Oh honey, I love how your devious mind works."

His hand stroked her hip in lazy circles. "I want that in writing."

"Shhh…" She grew slack against him. "I'll think about it."

When Provenza and Nicole returned they found them like that. They were asleep, although not altogether peacefully. They both still had pained expressions, and it was clear that whatever effort it had taken to get themselves into that position had cost them both. "You did say that leaving them alone together was probably a bad idea," Nicole observed.

"I did say that." He sighed. "Now one of us is going to have to wake them up, and someone is going to have to help her back into the chair. Then I've got to take her back to her room." He slanted a look at his partner's daughter. "Or we could just… wait?"

Nicole glanced at her watch. They had a little while yet before her mother would arrive. Her eyes drifted back to the bed. A small smile appeared. "You know something, I was wondering if we could chat a little more. I've been thinking about what to do for dad, for Father's day this year, and I wondered if maybe you could give me your opinion."

"Oh, I'm full of opinions." He offered her his arm as they turned away.

"You know something, I seem to remember that about you." She smiled at him in a way that was all Flynn.

He chuckled. "Now you're just putting me on."

"Not at all. In fact, I used to think some of the stories my dad told us about you all were pretty far out there," she laughed. "Then he introduced me to Sharon, and she backed them up. The ones she knew anyway. Oh, is it true that you once handcuffed my dad to a parking meter to keep him from punching some guy out, just because you'd had to deal with Sharon that morning, and didn't want to see her again?"

"Oh, well…" Provenza cleared his throat. "I wouldn't say that was the _only_ reason. But it was definitely a factor."

"Wow. So you really are scared of her." Nicole shook her head. "But she's just so great…"

"Oh my god," he grumbled. "You really are your father's daughter."

Nicole giggled as they walked away from the ICU.


	10. Chapter 10

Unconditionally - Chapter 10

by Kadi

Rated: M

* * *

_"The real lover is the man who can_

_thrill you by kissing your forehead_

_or smiling into your eyes_

_or just staring into space."_

_— Marilyn Monroe_

It was through some odd miracle of timing that the Raydor clan managed to avoid and evade Joanna Canton, the former Mrs. Flynn, during those first two, long days that Andy was in ICU. Sharon was not overly concerned about it, she had, after all, met the woman before. She was perfectly capable of remaining civil, but for Nicole's sake, and that of Andy's blood pressure, she rotated her visits when they knew that Joanna would not be present. Lieutenant Provenza believed, and Andy agreed with him, that Joanna would eventually grow bored of the situation when she realized there was no drama to be found. Sharon hoped that was the case, just her presence was enough to leave Andy feeling strained.

For her part, although Andy remained in ICU for almost three days, Sharon was on the mend. She was still stiff and quite sore, but movement had become much easier. The headaches were an ongoing irritant, and she was still plagued with bouts of dizziness from the concussion, but that too was healing. While Ricky and Isabelle were insistent upon remaining in Los Angeles until their mother was fully recovered, and spent most of their days at the hospital, Sharon sent Rusty to school. He protested, and there had been at least one argument between the two, but to school he went. To be fair, while he was in the city, Sharon had sent Ricky apartment hunting. He had been planning to come to Los Angeles in a few weeks for that very reason, and as much as she loved them, she did not need them with her every minute.

Since the entirety of Major Crimes could not spend all of its time at the hospital with the two injured officers, the team returned to work. They were reluctant to do so, but there were cases which still required their attention. It left Sharon and Andy very much on their own for much of that third day, with the exception of Nicole, who was remaining close at hand. She was leaving the hospital in the evenings, but was back early each morning and stayed throughout the day. It wasn't a hardship. As before, Sharon found the young woman to be much like her father, funny and quite candid. She eventually stopped blushing each time she found them seated, shoulder to shoulder, in the hospital bed; that first morning in ICU was not an isolated event.

As it so happened, the first time they caught her blushing at the sight of them, Andy had nudged Sharon in response. "Just wait until the first time she catches us in the nursing home together."

Although amusement had her eyes glowing a darker shade of green, Sharon had given him a reproachful look. "Well, I suppose I could visit you, but I intend to have a private nurse."

While the medical staff didn't appreciate finding them together, Andy's blood pressure was down and he was resting more comfortably with Sharon nearby. They turned a blind eye as neither patient's recovery was hindered. On the afternoon of the third day, Andy was finally released from ICU and moved to a room on the third floor. He was in a separate wing than Sharon, but closer, and his visitation was no longer limited.

It gave Rusty somewhere to escape to when he was at the hospital and the walls of Sharon's room began to close in on him. He didn't feel quite so badly about leaving her if he was using the excuse that he was off to check on Lieutenant Flynn. Which was exactly the reason he used for leaving Sharon's room five minutes after getting there and finding her with Isabelle. The two of them were engaged in acts that were simply too _girly_ for him to withstand. Sharon was seated at the head of the hospital bed, pillows piled behind her, and her injured leg elevated against a pillow. The other was curled inward while she leaned forward, browsing through an online catalogue of designer purses. Isabelle was seated on the end of the bed, systematically painting her mother's toe nails. When she held up two bottles of polish and asked if Rusty preferred the _Passion Fruit_ or _Hawaiian Melon_, Rusty knew that he was better off finding somewhere decidedly _else_ to be.

He dropped his book bag, and the overnight bag he brought for Sharon, and muttered something about finding food and checking on Flynn before quickly escaping the room. Isabelle watched him go before turning back to her mother. "Well, if he didn't like those, we could have asked him about the _Desert Rose_," she lifted the third bottle of polish.

Sharon chuckled quietly. "I'm not sure that he would have liked that much better either." She turned the laptop toward her daughter and inclined her head. "What about this one?"

Isabelle leaned forward and tilted her head, studying the purse. "I like that one. Do they have it in purple?"

"You are obsessed." Sharon leaned back with a laugh and turned the computer back toward her. Her daughter had a distinct love of any and all shades of purple, from the deepest amethyst to the lightest lavender. She lay back on her pillows for a moment and rolled her head on her shoulders. Her body had started to ache again, but she was intent upon scaling back the pain medication that she was taking. Already she was off the morphine and coping with the lighter doses of vicodin for her injuries, but she was realizing that at her age, her body simply did not bounce back as it once had. At least, she conceded, her children weren't allowing her to wear the horrible hospital gowns any longer. They were rotating some of her favorite lounge and sleepwear in and out of the hospital. At the moment, beneath her favorite silk robe, she was dressed in a soft pair of silk pajama shorts with a matching camisole. Sharon reached back and rubbed her neck before picking up her phone. She quickly sent a text to Andy, warning that Rusty was headed his way.

Andy did not receive the text, however. His phone was laying on the table next to his hospital bed, while he was seated in the chair in the corner of the room, nearest the door. He had his elbow resting against the arm of the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Across the room, Nicole was arguing with her mother. Joanna had shown up, ostensibly to take her daughter to get something to eat, since Nicole spent so much of her daytime hours at the hospital with her father.

He wasn't entirely certain what had sparked the argument, but knowing his ex-wife as he did, he didn't think that much mattered. He doubted that it had much to do with the fact that Nicole wanted to bring the boys to see him. They were discussing the fact that Andy was going to miss their next dance recital, seeing as he would be in the hospital for at least another several days. Joanna did not agree with the idea, and the argument had simply escalated from there. Andy rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning back in the chair as his headache worsened.

His body hurt all over, and the last thing he wanted or needed at the moment was to be caught in the middle, although, at least he wasn't the target. He couldn't exactly complain about being left out of this particular _debate_. When the light knock sounded at his door, he almost didn't hear it over the sound of his ex-wife's annoyingly screechy voice.

"Come in." Andy brightened almost immediately upon seeing Rusty. Although his incision site ached keenly at the movement, he sat up straight and motioned him into the room. He glanced at the women on the other side of the room and grinned when he realized they hadn't noticed. "Hey, grab the chair will ya." He pointed Rusty at the wheelchair just outside the door.

He gave the Lieutenant a puzzled look, but when the man nodded toward his ex-wife and daughter, Rusty shrugged. He pulled the wheelchair into the room and parked it next to the Lieutenant. "Is this a good idea?"

"Better than staying here." Andy pulled the pillow from behind his back and hugged it to his injured middle as he stood. His legs were still shakier than he would like, and he hurt pretty much _every where_, but he was proud of himself for toughing it out with little more than tylenol and a non-habit forming sleep aid. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you, kid." Andy eased himself into the chair and waved toward the door. "Let's roll."

Rusty cast an uneasy look at the room before pushing the Lieutenant away. He caught Nicole's eye as they left and shrugged. The argument with her mother never stopped, but thankfully, the unpleasant seeming woman hadn't noticed. Rusty was getting the impression that he wasn't going to like her. Just the sound of her voice grated on his nerves. "Where do you want to go?"

Andy leaned back in the wheelchair and got as comfortable as was possible, given his current condition. "Where do you think?" He tossed a smirk back at the teenager. He arranged his bathrobe and smoothed out his pajamas as they went.

"That is really _not _good idea," Rusty said with a groan. "Believe me, _that_ is probably the last place you want to be right now. Really."

His brow arched. "Why is that?" Andy imagined that this would be good. The kid had been fighting for days, throwing out any and all excuses he could think of to _stay_ at the hospital, and now that he was there, he didn't want to be?

"They had nail polish," Rusty told him, lamenting that fact with the one person he expected to _get it_. "There was online shopping. I think they were looking at purses. _Purses_. How many bags can one person have anyway? I mean, seriously? Have you been inside Sharon's closet? There's an entire wall of nothing but purses. It's nuts!"

Andy laughed, but it made him groan. "There are two things that you have to understand about women, Rusty. We're not _supposed_ to understand them. Stop trying, and whatever you do, never question the sanity behind purchases that involve shoes, purses, or face cream. You would be surprised at the amount of money a woman is willing to spend on face cream. Trust me on this, just let it go."

Rusty sighed. His shoulders slumped. "What's the other thing," he asked, resigned to his fate of nail polish and purse shopping.

"It's you and me, kid, surrounded by all these chicks. No matter what, _we_ have to stick together." Andy drummed his fingers against the armrest. "Between the two of us, I think we can handle a little bit of nail polish. Until they start wielding it at us, of course, and then we are out of there. You're going to be my wheel man, so stay close."

"How hard did you bump your head?" Rusty snickered. "Us against them? You do understand that we're outnumbered, right?"

"That's why we have to stick together," Andy stated. "United front. We're going down, but we're not doing it alone. That's one of the most important things to keep in mind when dealing with women."

"Okay." Rusty didn't sound convinced. He was wondering if the Lieutenant had given in and taken the pain meds. "What is one of the other things?"

"When your woman is mad at you, every man for himself." Andy tossed a smirk back at him.

Okay, Rusty thought. That sounded more convincing. "Right. What about Ricky? There are three of us, you know?"

"True," Andy's lips pursed. "But he has woman troubles of his own. His hands are full."

Ricky's girlfriend had arrived the afternoon before, and the two of them were looking at apartments together. The young woman seemed very nice. She was bright, friendly, and apparently a doctor all on her own. She was a pathologist, however, and after finishing her surgical residency, she was applying at the Medical Examiner's office. Lillian was her name, a pretty, willowy young woman of hispanic descent. As he understood it, Ricky's family had only met her for the first time the previous Christmas. Sharon's introduction had been via video conference, for the obvious reasons of Rusty's security concerns, and that she had remained in Los Angeles rather than making the trip to Park City as she did every year. Andy knew that Sharon had concerns that they were moving too quickly, but she was holding her own counsel. Their children had to make their own choices, and she didn't exactly have the best track record for giving relationship advice.

Andy pushed those thoughts aside when they reached Sharon's room. Rusty pushed the door open and backed into the room with the wheel chair. "Sharon, I brought you something," the teenager announced.

The women remained where he had left them. Isabelle was still working on her mother's toes, and Sharon was still at the computer. Her brows lifted, but her eyes brightened upon seeing Andy. "What are you doing out of bed?" She closed the computer and placed it on the table beside the bed. "Andy, you've only just gotten out of ICU."

"Ah," he pointed a finger at her as he was wheeled closer. "Says she who was climbing into my bed _hours_ after having surgery."

"Minor surgery, on a flesh wound," Sharon argued. "You've had major surgery to repair internal bleeding. I would have come to you if you were lonely."

"I wasn't," Andy assured her quickly.

"I rescued him," Rusty grinned. "He was all pathetic looking, I couldn't just leave him there."

Andy rolled his eyes. "I was not. Nicole and Joanna were having a discussion that I decided should exclude me. I made a strategic escape."

"Ah." Sharon pressed her lips together to suppress the smile.

"Mmhm," Isabelle smirked. "That's also known as the big scaredy runaway."

The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure I like you anymore," he decided. "Rusty, you're my favorite."

The teenager rolled his eyes and walked over to drop onto the short sofa beneath the window at the far side of Sharon's room. "You know, I'm not convinced that's a _good_ thing."

"Oh sure," Isabelle played along. "Pick the youngest." She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "_Rusty, Rusty, Rusty__…_" She picked up a bottle of nail polish and tapped it against her palm. "You're next. Start thinking about what color you'd like those toes to be."

"Isabelle." Sharon shook her head at the young woman. "Leave Andy alone. He's obviously just escaped a traumatic ordeal. Let's not pick on him…" She paused for just a moment. "Not for at least another fifteen minutes." Sharon edged over in the bed and made room for him. She gave the mattress a light pat and jerked her head at him. "Come on."

He flashed a grin and winked at Rusty. Moving was still a slow process, but Andy got himself up and hobbled around the bed to slide in on Sharon's other side. He pointed a finger at Isabelle, still seated at the end of the bed. "You just keep that polish to yourself."

She pouted at him. "You're no fun at all."

"Alright, behave," Sharon picked up the remote and turned the television on. She went through several channels before finding a sports show with highlights from the previous night's Dodger's game.

Andy leaned back with a sigh. "You are the best." His hand stroked down her arm.

"Hm." She hummed. "We'll see if you're still saying that in a few years." Sharon reached for her computer again and returned her attention to her shopping. "Your partner called, he'll be by later this evening to fill us in on what's happened with the Allen case."

"He's only my partner when he's being a cranky louse, otherwise he's just the Lieutenant," Andy pointed out with half a grin. "What did he do?"

"He's being a cranky louse," Sharon shook her head. "He might have also intercepted certain exchanges of information between myself and other members of the team."

"Ah." Andy shook his head. That was to be expected. They could force Sharon onto medical leave until she was healed enough to return to desk duty, but she wasn't going to go quietly. "Who was the accomplice?"

"Mike." She sighed. "He's been shut down and _your partner_ has ordered the others to ignore my calls, unless they are specifically social in nature." Sharon made a face at him. "I'm shopping instead."

"I see that." Andy angled a look at her screen and winced. "Sharon, I could buy several seasons worth of Dodgers passes for the price of that purse."

"Yes I know," she gave his hand an absent pat and continued browsing.

Andy shot a look at Rusty and rolled his eyes. The teenager lifted his hands as though to say, _I told you_. The Lieutenant turned his attention back to the game highlights. He held the remote in one hand, the other was drawing lazy circles against the middle of Sharon's back. "Whatever makes you happy, babe."

"Oh my god." Rusty stood up and walked toward the door. "I'm going to go find something to eat. Anyone want anything?"

"That's actually a great idea," Isabelle put the finishing touches on the last toe and slid off the bed. She began picking up the bottles and other items spread out at the foot of her mother's bed. "We'll take my rental and get something decent. Would you two like anything specific?"

"No honey," Sharon smiled warmly at them. "I'm sure whatever you happen to bring back will be fine. Rusty is familiar with our preferences. Surprise us."

Isabelle pulled the door closed behind them and looked at Rusty. "They are so…"

"See." He threw his hands up again. "This is what I've been saying."

"Are they always—"

"Worse." Rusty started down the hall.

"Aw, that's kind of sweet," Isabelle laughed when he sighed at her. "Oh, come on Rusty. You're new to us. For you, this isn't that big a deal. For us?" She shook her head. "I wish I could explain it, but my dad wasn't the world's greatest husband, and mom is sort of stubborn - in case you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah right," He snorted. "Sort of?" Rusty shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. "No, I get it. You want her to be happy. I want that too. It's just… ew."

Isabelle grinned. "It is, isn't it? It's so great. Hey, do you mind if we swing in to Neiman Marcus on the way back? I want to see if they have that bag mom was looking at. We can surprise her with it."

Rusty rolled his eyes skyward and heaved another sigh. _Girls_. Flynn was right, they were completely outnumbered. What could they do? Give in, naturally. "Sure, actually, let's do that while we wait for our food. There's this deli that they both like, it's got a great Vegetarian selection that works for Lieutenant Flynn. We can call the order in, then pick it up after you pick up the bag."

"Excellent." Isabelle looped an arm through one of his. "Rick would never go shopping with me. I always wanted a younger sibling. Mom got me a goldfish instead. That didn't go so well."

Rusty nodded quietly, and just a little awkwardly. He wondered what Lieutenant Provenza was doing…

Andy waited until the kids were gone before tugging on Sharon's arm. "Hey. Come here."

"Hm." She held up a finger. "Not while I'm shopping."

He could see her eyes crinkling at the corners, and the twitch of her lips toward a smile. His fingers closed around her hand and gave it a tug. "Sharon." Andy pulled her down until his lips brushed her shoulder. "The bag will still be there."

"It's not a _bag_, Andy, it's a Michael Kors." She kept her eyes firmly trained on the computer screen. She wasn't paying much attention to the screen anymore, but wouldn't tell him that. Not while the back of one hand was gently stroking her arm and his lips were warm against her shoulder.

"I'm sure it's great." He had no idea what that meant. He tugged her toward him again. "It will be there later."

When his lips brushed her neck, she closed the computer and placed it back on the table. Sharon leaned back and turned to curl into his side. "Yes?" She drew the syllable out and lifted her brows at him.

Andy dropped a kiss onto her lips. His nose nuzzled her cheek. "Hi."

A smile curved her lips. She sank closer to him in the hospital bed. "Hi." She left a trail of kisses from his chin to his ear before laying her head on his shoulder. "What happened?"

He should have known she wouldn't let it go. Andy sighed quietly. "Nicole and Joanna. Mostly Joanna. I'm going to miss the recital, she wanted to bring the boys to see me, so they'd know I hadn't forgotten about them.. that my reason for being absent was a serious one. Her mother didn't agree." Andy shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Andy." Sharon whispered his name on an sigh. "I'm sorry." She lay her hand against his chest and rubbed gently. "I had forgotten about the recital. I know you were looking forward to it. Does Nicole know where you've gotten off to? She'll worry when she realizes you've left."

"Oh, I think she has a pretty good idea." He smiled at her. "We're not that good at staying in our own rooms, you know."

"Hm. Good point." She bent her elbow and rested it against the pillows, then propped her head in her hand to gaze down at him. "I'm proud of you for not getting swept into it, though. Nicole has to learn to find her footing; she's never been a parent before, and part of that job is juggling what you think is best with all the advice you get from your own parents… or your in-laws."

"Yeah well," he shrugged. Andy gave her a self deprecating smile. "I'm not exactly the right one to be handing out parenting advice, unless we stick to what _not _to do."

"Andy." Sharon's brows drew together. "Don't. Don't do that. Do not discount your worth as a father, or even a grandfather. You've made mistakes, but you've owned them. That's a lot more than some people have done, I can think of two particular individuals that we're familiar with. You've worked hard, and unfortunately it's an uphill battle with little assistance at the top. But you know…" A smile appeared. Her eyes shone softly, gold flecks in the green depths. "Ya did good."

He reached up and sank his fingers into her thick hair. They were gentle against her scalp. "Well, you're a hard audience to please, so if you think so…"

Her nose wrinkled at him. "No, I'm not the one that needs to be impressed, although I am. Nicole is here, Andy. She has opened herself up to you, and she's making a place for you in her family. So don't give up."

"I won't," he promised. His thumb caressed her cheek. He pulled her back down for another light kiss. "You're pretty terrific too, you know?"

"Well, yes." She smiled brightly at him. "Of course I know. It's all part of my exceptional reputation. The Darthness of it." Her eyes glittered with amusement as she lay her head against his shoulder again.

"Right." He grinned crookedly. "Well, your Darthness, if I could make one suggestion?"

"You may," she gave him a regal wave of her hand.

"Let's not do this again, yeah?" His fingers continued to comb through her hair. "Those shorts are really hot, and I hurt too much to care. It's terrible."

"Poor Andy," she chuckled sympathetically. "Well, I can assure you that I am completely in favor of never revisiting this little predicament again." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and hummed softly at his fingers rubbing the base of her skull.

"Headache?" His lips brushed her forehead when she nodded. "How long do you think the kids will be gone?"

Sharon considered it for a moment. "A while. Isabelle will think of a thousand errands to run before they come back. Rusty is going to drag his feet on principle."

His hand slipped down to the back of her neck, he massaged gently. "Then go to sleep," he ordered gently. "I'll wake you when they get back."

A soft smile curved her lips. She tipped her head up and kissed the spot just below his ear. Then she settled her head back against his shoulder and let her eyes drift closed while he continued to alternate between rubbing her neck and massaging her scalp. She could hear him lower the volume on the television, then flip channels until he found an old movie that would hold his interest.

Lieutenant Provenza found them like that an hour later. He rolled his eyes at the pair of them. The Captain was asleep, but Flynn was still watching his movie. "You would think as one of Los Angeles' finer medical institutions, they could arrange for the two of you to have your own beds."

Andy frowned at him, and motioned him to lower his voice. "Probably," he kept his voice to a low, rumbling tone. "But it wouldn't be nearly as much fun." He smirked at the disgusted look on his partner's face.

"God save me from love sick fools," Provenza muttered. "You are pathetic."

"Jealous?" Andy taunted. "I saw her first. Get your own girl." He tilted his head at him. "What's up? I don't want to wake her if we don't have to."

Provenza sniffed. "She would be so lucky." He walked over and rested his hands on the foot rail of the bed. "The Allen case got closed, finally. Officially, even. I thought she'd want to know what really happened." He tilted his head, took a long look at the sleeping woman and rolled his eyes. "Great, now she _looks_ human too."

Flynn rolled his eyes. "She was always human, Louie. We were just asses." His fingers toyed with a lock of dark hair. "The only difference now is, I'm reformed, and you're still an ass."

"No," Sharon mumbled against his shoulder. "You're still an ass, just a likable one." Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted until she was able to focus on the older man standing at the foot of her hospital bed. "Lieutenant."

"Captain." He clasped his hands in front of her and tried to look bored. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She shifted on the bed so that she wasn't so much curled against Andy as reclining next to him. She moved her leg back to it's elevated position and sighed when the wound throbbed in reaction. "What can we do for you?"

"Ah," He pointed a finger at her. "Actually, it is what you can do for me. Until you're released to return to work, I would appreciate it if you would not incite _my_ team to disobeying orders. I would prefer it if they did not share details of our current cases with team members who are not active members of the investigation."

Her eyes narrowed when he rocked back on his heels. "You've been waiting all day to say that, haven't you?"

"All day?" Provenza smirked. "I've been waiting a couple of days to be able to say that. Rules are rules, Captain. Surely _you_ can understand that."

"Hm." Her lips pursed. "I suppose. It would be only fair, after all." She made a show of thinking about it, and then nodded. "Very well. I will refrain from requesting updates. But I would appreciate being kept in the loop."

"I'll see what I can do," he stated. "I am willing to compromise."

"Indeed." She clasped her hands and let them rest against her stomach.

Andy rolled his eyes at them. "Should I leave the two of you alone?"

Sharon glared at him, while his partner looked appalled. "Andrew," she stated. "You won't always be too hurt to care."

"Noted," he replied with a grin. "Just checking."

"You're a sick man," Provenza scoffed. "Now then, the real reason for my visit." He rubbed his hands together. "The Allen case…"

Sharon's attention shifted immediately. She sat straighter in the bed. "It's been closed?"

"Yes," Provenza moved around and took a seat in the chair near the bed. "It was the wife," he said without much preamble. "She was strung out. She argued with the victim, and during the argument, she took her husband's gun and shot her. Jason Allen wasn't even in the room at the time. He and his father were covering for Susan Allen. He thought it was his fault. He knew the girlfriend was cheating, but their families were expecting them to get married. He blamed himself, hoped he could turn it around."

"How sad," Sharon said. "All that heartache…"

"Perils of addiction," Flynn pointed out. "When you're strung out, looking for your next hit, or your next drink, you're not thinking about much else. Everything seems to spin out of control. The smallest issues can become the most traumatic experiences, and mostly in your own head."

She lay a hand on his leg and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. She knew he was speaking from experience. He was never one to hide that side of himself. "Yes. Well, at least there can be some closure for the Leslies. Officer Allen's name can be cleared."

"And you can stop worrying about it," Provenza stated. "The last case you were on is all wrapped up, for good this time. Now it's time to concentrate on getting better so that you can come back and continue to make our lives… well, the way they are."

Sharon's lips pursed. She looked at Andy. "I think there was actually some sort of… good intention in that somewhere."

"Weirder things have happened," He agreed. Andy gestured between them. "For example."

"Oh, honey, that's not weird," she said sweetly. Sharon's eyes sparkled. "That's damned unusual."

He laughed, then almost wished he hadn't. "At least we agree that it's not natural."

"You can count me in on _that_," Provenza grumbled.

"Hm." Sharon's lips pursed. Her eyes narrowed. She considered for a moment, then leaned over and kissed him. "Luckily, I'm a big fan of unusual. Natural was a resounding failure the last time I tried it."

"Oh geez." Provenza turned away. "Do you have to do that with witnesses? Have a little decency."

"Decency?" Andy gave her a peculiar look. "What is that?"

Sharon feigned a small, sympathetic smile, belied only by the sparkling of her eyes. She gave Andy's leg a light pat. "It's an abstract idea, I know, but one day I'm sure you'll be more acquainted with it."

His lips turned down, he sighed at her. "Do I have to?"

"Well, I'm certainly not asking you to change." Her head tilted. "_I_ happen to like you just as you are."

With his dark eyes glittering, mischief practically pouring off him, Andy turned his attention back to his partner. "_She_ likes me."

"Yes," Provenza said dryly. "It was the beginning of your end. You had to make nice." He shook his finger at him. "If you had listened to me…"

"I wouldn't be having nearly as much fun." Andy's brows bobbed.

"Egh gads." Provenza shuddered. "I'm going home. I wish I could blame it on you both bumping your heads, but that ship sailed a long time ago."

"Hm." Sharon's lips pursed thoughtfully. "Maybe if we introduced him to someone. That could certainly do something for his cheerful disposition."

Andy arched a brow. "Doesn't California have a limit on the number of times you can be married? Eventually, I think he's going to have to start going out of state."

"I hadn't thought about that," Sharon said. "We should look into it for him. It's the least we can do."

"I'll make a note," he turned back to his partner and smiled. "We'll research it."

He had his hands up, as though to ward them off, and finally just let them drop. Provenza turned back toward the door. "I give up. I'm getting out of here before the insanity spreads."

Andy watched him go and shrugged. "Something we said?"

Sharon laughed quietly. "I've stolen his favorite playmate. We should get him a pet. Maybe even a plant."

He snorted. "Oh, I'd love to see the look on his face." Andy slid his hand along her thigh in a gentle caress. "How's your head?"

"Better." The headache was still there, but the throbbing had faded to a dull roar. She could manage until they brought her evening medication. Sharon curled both of her arms around his and leaned in to his side. "Listen…"

"Hm?" He glanced down at her. "To what?"

"Nothing." Sharon smiled. "Absolutely nothing. Complete silence."

A grin spread slowly across his face. "You know… I think this is the first time we've been completely alone in…" His lips pursed. "Ever."

"Mmhm." She lay her head against his shoulder. "I love them all, but it's rather nice."

"Yeah… not the best way to go about it. Hey, next time, we'll just go away somewhere." He lifted his arm and draped it around her, drawing her closer into his side. "I'll have to talk to my boss, see if I can get the time off. She's a tough nut to crack, but the right motivation usually works."

"Oh?" Her brows lifted in askance. "Tell me more about this motivation."

"Well," he rumbled. "It usually goes something like this…


	11. Chapter 11

Unconditionally - Chapter 11

by Kadi

Rated M

* * *

"_Come just as you are to me_

_Don__'__t need apologies_

_Know that you are worthy_

_I__'__ll take your bad days with your good_

_Walk through the storm I would_

_I do it all because I love you, I love you_

_Unconditional, Unconditionally_

_I will love you unconditionally__"_

— _Katy Perry_

Time and patience were not commodities which were infinitely replenishing. There always came a time at which they ran out. For Sharon that happened on the Saturday afternoon following the accident. She was preparing to be released from the hospital after spending almost a week within its less than comfortable walls. They knew that Andy would be remaining until Monday, at the very least, and possibly until Wednesday of the following week, but Sharon was looking forward to going home. She regretted leaving him to the tender mercies of the medical staff, but when she thought of her very comfortable condo, with it's very nice bed, and her spacious shower, along with the opportunity to rest and recuperate in peace… the regret was fleeting. She would visit, he would be fine.

Also too was the fact that Ricky and his girlfriend, Lillian, were flying back to Houston the following afternoon. Sharon wanted to spend time with them away from the hospital. She might have been more saddened by their leaving, except that they would be returning in a few weeks to continue apartment hunting, and both would be making the move to Los Angeles during the Summer months. With Isabelle remaining, and of course Rusty at home, she would be well taken care of. Not that she required taking care of, as she had been reminding all of her children for the last few days.

Even now she was limping around her hospital room, retrieving all of her belongings while she waited for Ricky to pick her up. She had insisted that her children do something _fun,_ which did not involve a hospital, with their Saturday. Rusty was at a game with Provenza, a fact which she found incredibly amusing, considering that her foster son was not much of a sports fan. Andy and his partner were insisting upon _curing _him of that. Isabelle was shopping with Gavin, who had returned from a business trip in Seattle the day before, completely indignant and totally put out with all of the Raydors for not informing him - post haste - of the accident. That left Richard and Lillian to fetch her, as the two hadn't made plans for the day, and were instead, enjoying a quiet afternoon before having to fly home. Sharon snorted to herself, yeah right. She chose not to think about what her son was probably, really, up to with his girlfriend and instead continued packing.

Her leg was reminding her of its presence as she hobbled here and there, stuffing items back into the two overnight bags which had been acquired during her short stay. Once she began moving around, she was grateful that Isabelle had brought her yoga pants instead of jeans, for the eventual ride home. Sharon rolled her bathrobe and tucked it into one of the bags, along with her hair brush and makeup bag. She drew her hair over her shoulder and gazed around the room again, while smoothing her t-shirt down and folding her arms over her chest. The many flower and balloon arrangements that she had received during her stay had already gone home with the children, as Sharon had anticipated being released at some point prior to Monday.

"Any later and I would have missed you."

Sharon sighed, quietly. She would recognize the high pitched sound of Joanna Canton's voice anywhere. She fixed a smile on her face before turning toward the woman. "Yes. I've been released. I'm just waiting for my son. How are you, Joanna?"

"I've been well," she smiled airily. "I'm sure we'll all be a lot better once this is all over and done with. Spending all this time at the hospital has been such an ordeal. Poor Nicole, she's run herself incredibly ragged this week. I don't know why she has insisted on being here _every_ single day. It isn't as if the old reprobate is dying." She laughed.

"Hm." Sharon's jaw clenched. She was reminded of a hyena. Her nerves grated, it was all she could do not to shudder in response. "Yes, well, I'm sure she's been worried. We all have. Andy's injuries were significant."

"Well, it hasn't curbed his enthusiasm, now has it?" Joanna clasped her hands in front of her. "Andy was never one for following the rules, but I suppose it was too much to expect he'd have enough care for his family that he might actually attempt to make all of this easier on everyone by staying in his room. Although, I suppose he wasn't the only one with issues in that regard. It is rather selfish, don't you think?"

"Joanna, you're going to have to forgive me, I don't have the patience for one of your little mind games right now," Sharon tilted her head. Her patience was at an end, and honestly, the woman was simply too annoying for words. "Head injury, you understand. Why don't you just come out and say whatever it is you're on about."

Her expression changed. The smile faltered and she frowned at the woman in front of her, the one who was intruding upon their lives. "He hasn't changed," Joanna stated. "Andy is, and always will be, an utter disappointment to those around him. But you… you're making him out to be more than he is. I can't have you building Nicole up for disappointment. Thank heavens Jake isn't around for all of this, and remembers what a loser his father is. Nicole, unfortunately, hasn't the advantage of distance."

"I see." Sharon remained standing where she was, arms folded over her chest. Her hands gripped her upper arms tightly. Her eyes flashed, anger and indignation. Her voice dropped an octave. "I understand completely. You're so absolutely insecure that you cannot stand the fact that Nicole might have an honest relationship with her father. You've spent so many years tearing Andy down, just to build yourself up, and you've used your children to do it. Now that they're old enough to see for themselves, the man that their father is, you're looking for any excuse you can to ruin that relationship. Joanna, I haven't done anything to exaggerate or hide who Andy is. I haven't needed to. The changes he's made in his life were there long before I came along, he did it all himself. He works, very hard, every day to be a man that his daughter can be proud of. I'm so sorry for you." Sharon smiled sadly. "That you can't see that, that you have to stand in the way of something so wonderful. The only disappointment there will be for Nicole will be in her learning just how horrible a person you really are if you keep attempting to sabotage her relationship with her father." Sharon took a step forward, but just the one. She held her body so stiffly that every muscle ached, and her leg was throbbing. "Just so that we are clear, I will make sure that she finds out if you don't stop."

Joanna's blue eyes flashed. Her lip curled, while her face flushed a light shade of scarlet. "You interfering tramp. Do you really think that Nicole would believe you? Sooner or later she's going to see through you as well, I mean, what kind of man could her father be sleeping with a married woman, and you… Eventually she's going to realize—"

"Oh!" Sharon smiled brightly. "No, you see, we weren't sleeping together while I was married. That came after I was divorced. Although, it really is rather here nor there, and no one's business, certainly not yours, and really it isn't any of Nicole's either. But if it becomes an issue, I've made no secret of the fact that my husband and I were separated for twenty years prior to making the final divorce official. Really, it was just so much a formality," She waved a hand through the air. It was Sharon's turn to laugh airily, treating the woman just as ridiculously as she was behaving. "Joanna, you don't have to be concerned about any of that." Her eyes narrowed, focused on the woman. The smile she gave her now was far from pleasant. "Feel free to bring it up to Nicole if you'd like, but once her father and I are married, I don't think it's going to matter, oh…" She snapped, "Damn. We intended to tell the kids first, well, you won't ruin our surprise, will you?"

Her jaw dropped. "I… you…" Joanna's eyes had gone wide. She had hoped to throw a monkey wrench into this little relationship, give the other woman reason to cut her losses. Warn her away if she wouldn't go willingly. Joanna was not prepared to be faced with news of an engagement, or the fact that she was willing to fight back. "You can't do that! You'd both lose your jobs. Surely it's all against the rules."

"Actually, not so much," Sharon shrugged. "Not that they really care at this point, we're both a bit… tenured, you could say. Even if it did become an issue, let me assure you, Joanna. I would retire first, before I would give him up. Compared to that, there is absolutely nothing that you could say or do that is going to send me away. So why don't you walk out of here, go home, think about everything that I said. In the meantime, I expect you to stay far, far from Andy, at least until you can conduct yourself in a manner befitting your age, and your position in your family." Her eyes lit suddenly, and she smiled, genuinely. "Ricky." She gestured her son into the room when he appeared at the door. "I'm packing, sweetheart. The bags are here." She picked up her purse and drew it over her shoulder. "If you'd take them down to the car, I'll just be in Andy's room." She limped past the stunned Joanna, intent on getting away from there before she was further tempted to rip the annoying woman's face off.

After she was gone, Joanna turned her astonished expression on Ricky. "She can't be serious."

"Oh, uh…" He wasn't sure what his mother was, or was not serious about, as he had not been privy to the entire conversation. His mother's mood, however, he could read all too well. "I'm pretty sure she is. My mother doesn't deal in empty threats, or promises, and if you've made her angry then you should be careful. Excuse me ma'am." He moved past her and pulled one bag over his shoulder, while lifting the other. Ricky checked the room, and bathroom, just to make sure his mother had not forgotten anything in her ire. Seeing nothing, he made good his own exit.

Ricky caught up with her just down the hall. Instead of going to the car, as she had instructed him, he walked with her toward the Lieutenant's room. "Can I assume that unpleasant woman was the ex-wife?"

Her lips pulled back in a slight sneer. "You can."

"What are you going to do?" Ricky gave her a concerned look.

"Not a thing." Sharon forced herself to relax. "I said my piece, Joanna knows where I stand. She'll back off, or she won't. It really is all up to her. I have no intention of further involving myself unless she forces the issue. It's best in these situations to simply ignore the irritants as much as possible, eventually they do go away. They flitter off to annoy someone else."

Ricky didn't look convinced. He shook his head. "Or it just gets worse. What if she tells Lieutenant Flynn that you've told her off?"

"He's asked you to call him Andy," Sharon replied. "I hope that she does." Her smile was bright, genuine. "He'll only be sorry that he missed it. Don't worry about this, honey. It's all well in hand. Where is Lillian," she asked, changing the subject.

"She stayed at the condo," Ricky grinned. "When we found out they were letting you go today, she wanted to make dinner for everyone. I tried to tell her that you're all weird about your kitchen, but she insisted. I just couldn't say no."

Sharon laughed. "I suppose I can allow it, just this once. That was very nice of her, but we could have ordered something. We'll have to stop and pick up a bottle of wine and dessert to show our appreciation."

"More like a bottle of tequila and some margarita mix," he gave her a crooked grin. "She's making a family recipe, a little bit of comfort food, right from south Texas to your table. Don't worry, you're going to love it. Lily thinks you're too thin."

"God bless her," Sharon smiled. "I've actually been struggling to get rid of the last five pounds I gained over the holidays. This leg isn't going to make that any easier." She huffed a sigh at the loss of her morning runs, although that was harder to do now with her more unpredictable schedule. Sharon had been considering adding a treadmill to the condo so that she could get back to her workout routine. It seemed that would have to wait just a little bit longer now.

Ricky rolled his eyes at her. "You wonder where Isabelle got it from. Mom, do you want me to get a wheelchair?"

"No." Sharon scowled. "I am perfectly fine." She was limping, slowly, but moving under her own power just the same. "I do not need to be babied, Richard."

"Of course not, what was I thinking." He shook his head and continued to walk slowly beside her. "You always said we got our stubborn streaks from dad's side of the family, I'm thinking that's not entirely accurate."

Sharon sniffed at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never do, when I'm right," he teased.

When they reached Andy's room, Ricky knocked quietly for her. At the summons, he pushed the door open and let his mother hobble in ahead of him. They found the Lieutenant leaning back in his bed, pajama clad legs crossed at the ankles, while he watched the game on television.

"Hey." Andy smiled upon seeing her, and reached for the remote to mute the game. When he spotted her son, and the bags he carried, his smile widened. "Looks like someone is getting sprung. Finally got one of the kids to bail you outta here, huh?"

"On the contrary," She smirked. "I've been released on good behavior."

"Naturally." He shifted, sat up in the bed. "Nicole is with the boys, they've got dance today," he explained, before she could ask. "I've got the game, and my pretty little nurse friend, Derek."

Sharon laughed as she approached his bed. "Poor Andy, they could at least give you a cute young thing for all your trouble."

"Already got one," He waggled his brows at her. She snorted and he reached for her, "Hey, you're younger than me, it counts."

"Such a cradle robber," she eased a hip on the edge of his bed. Sharon sighed quietly. "Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

"What, are you kidding?" Andy gestured to the television. "I've got the best basic cable can provide, three meals a day, and all these wonderful little accessories," he nodded his head toward his IV stand. "What more could a guy ask for?"

"A queen sized bed, a hot shower, and a home cooked meal?" Sharon smiled sweetly at him. She rubbed his leg. "I'm not sure I'll make it by tomorrow, Ricky and Lillian are leaving, but I'll be here Monday."

"Nah, don't worry about me," he took her hand and held it. "I'll be out of here in a few more days, then you'll wish you could get rid of me." Andy flashed a lopsided grin at her. "But I won't say no to any care packages containing the afore mentioned home cooked meals."

"I'll see what I can do." Sharon leaned over and kissed him, before standing up. She would be back to see him, despite his protestations. They were at a juncture in their lives where they didn't _have_ to see one another every day, but they were happier when they could do so. "Behave," she told him. "I'd tell you to keep your hands off the nurses, but I don't think I have to worry."

"Ya never know, babe." He winked at her. Andy glanced behind her and nodded at Ricky. "Hey, take care of my girl, will ya?"

"I'll try." Ricky moved further into the room, when it seemed he was no longer intruding. "You know how she is."

"Too well." Andy grinned.

"_She_ is standing right here," Sharon reminded them.

"Yeah?" Ricky smirked at her. He edged around her and held out a hand to the Lieutenant. "It was nice to meet you, sir. Next time, the circumstances will be better."

"Like wise," Andy shook his hand, and realized he shouldn't be surprised by the gesture. This was one of Sharon's kids, after all. "You're still planning to head back this way in a couple of weeks?"

"Yes sir." Ricky nodded. "We'll be here for Rusty's graduation, we're going to spend the week, try to nail down an apartment. Hey, while I'm here, I can take you to a game. You can see how a winning team does it."

"Watch it." Andy gave him a good natured glare. Sharon's son was a Giants fan, but he was trying not to hold it against him. "I'll get you to a Dodgers game while you're here, and you can see what real baseball is all about."

"Okay," Sharon shook her head at them. "We're expected at home. Lillian is waiting, and it would be incredibly rude to leave her alone much longer." Not to mention wanting to stop that debate before it got started, again. She bent, kissing him again. "Be good," she warned, pointing a finger. "Nicole has my number, and so does Nurse Derek."

"Sharon, I am the epitome of good," he protested.

"Right." She turned away and limped toward the door. "That's why my case file on you was so thick."

He laughed as he lifted the remote again. "How else was I supposed to get your attention?"

"The same way you got it this time," she tossed a smirk back at him.

"Damn," he grumbled playfully. "_Now_ she tells me." He smiled when Sharon's laughter followed her out of the room.

Andy was able to relax for the remainder of his Saturday. With nurses coming and going, he wasn't exactly lonely, and after having constant visitors, it was more restful being on his own. Sharon sent a text to check on him that evening, and on Sunday, Buzz showed up on his way home from brunch with his sister. He was still there when Isabelle poked her head into Andy's room.

She knocked lightly as she eased the door open. "Special delivery." She held up a plastic container and grinned. "Mom sent you something. She said you'd know _exactly _what they are."

"She sent you all the way down here with brownies?" Andy sat up, but was reaching for the container. He knew _precisely _what was inside. He lifted a corner of the lid and inhaled deeply. "Oh god."

"Well, I dropped Rick and Lil off at the airport, but yes, she asked me to drop by with these for you on my way back to the apartment." Isabelle smirked at him. "I take you're familiar?"

"Are you kidding? I've dreamed about these." Andy lifted the lid off and almost moaned. "Crack brownies."

Buzz's eyebrows reached the vicinity of his hairline. "_Crack_ brownies," he asked carefully.

"Not literally," Andy rolled his eyes at the younger man. "It's Sharon's recipe. Coffee, dark chocolate, cocoa, milk chocolate, and just a touch of caramel." He lifted one of them out of the container and held it out to Buzz. "You _have _to try it. Just one, and you'll be hooked for life, thus the name. Crack brownies."

Buzz eyed it a little warily, but decided that if it had come from the Captain's kitchen, then it couldn't be anything dangerous. The smell was certainly making his mouth water. He broke off a corner of the brownie in his hand and put it in his mouth. "Oh my god."

"What did I tell ya." Andy grinned. "A little piece of heaven, right here for me." He took one for himself and put the lid back on. "They're not too sweet, but they are incredibly rich."

"Tell me about it." Isabelle groaned. "I ate two of them last night. I'm hoping Rusty devours the rest before I get home, or my dance partners will never be able to lift me again."

"This is amazing," Buzz had already managed to eat half of his. "I think the Captain has been holding out on us."

"On you maybe." Andy smirked. "You should try her eggplant parmesan. She makes this sauce that almost makes me weep."

"He should try her pot roast," Isabelle sighed. "Now that is a little bit of heaven."

"Mm…" Andy nodded. "She does this thing with the sauce, adds it to the vegetables for me, and well… we could go on, but it's just going to make me hungry and I'm stuck with hospital cuisine."

"If we knew the Captain could cook," Buzz stated, "No way would we have let you have her."

Isabelle laughed. "The fastest way to a man's heart…" She shook her head at them. "It wasn't always like this. After dad left, mom didn't have a lot of opportunity to go out, you know, with friends. She had us to take care of. So between little league, dance classes, recitals, and what not… she started cooking as a hobby. We had to eat, and it gave her something to do. Ricky and I were her guinea pigs, and there were plenty of times that we wished we weren't."

"Keep dreaming Buzzo." Andy grinned.

"I will, thanks." He reached for his jacket. "I have to get going. It was good to see you're feeling better, Lieutenant. Miss Raydor," he nodded at her. "It was good to see you again. Tell your mother the brownies are very good."

"I will, and it's Isabelle. You call me Miss Raydor, and I start looking for cranky nuns." She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"Bye Buzz, thanks for stopping by. Hands off my girl," he called.

"Sure, no problem." Buzz smirked. "But I'm telling Sanchez that she cooks. Good luck."

"Traitor." He turned his attention to Isabelle. "Hey, thanks for bringing these. It was just what I needed."

"Mother commands, I obey," She moved to the vacant chair near his bed. "How are you doing?"

"Much better," Andy replied. "They might even let me out of here tomorrow. Depends on what the doc thinks when he stops by in the morning."

"That's good news. Mom will be thrilled. She's currently outnumbered." Isabelle smiled wickedly. "Having Rick and Lil gone hasn't quite evened the odds out."

He laughed. "Somehow, I don't see your mother having any problems dealing with any of you, outnumbered or not."

"True, but it is fun to try." Isabelle inclined her head at him. "So, rumor has it you think that you're going to marry my mother."

Andy blinked. He hadn't realized Sharon had already told them. "That's the plan," he said carefully.

"Oh, don't worry, mom hasn't said anything yet." She waved a hand through the air. "Rick overheard her giving the ex-headache of yours a reality check. It apparently slipped out at some point. We discussed it, at length, last night."

"And?" He was wondering if he should be concerned by that. "By _we_, who exactly do you mean?"

"We, as in her kids. The _three_ of us, Rick, Rusty, and I. Oh, and Lil too, but mainly the three of us." She draped her arms against the sides of the chair, and drummed the fingers of one hand against a chair arm. "After careful consideration, we have decided to allow it."

Andy decided he was meant to be amused. "I see." His lips pursed. "You understand, of course, that no one _allows_ your mother to do anything. Right?"

"Right." She nodded. "But we're allowed to have an opinion." Isabelle pushed up from her chair. "The general consensus is… don't be an asshole. Oh, and don't wait too long. You two are _seriously_ not getting any younger."

"I feel like I should say thank you, but at the same time…" Andy trailed off, shaking his head at her. "You can tell the other two that I don't plan on it. Okay?"

"Good." She stopped at the door and flashed a wide smile that was reminiscent of her mother. "Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you to be good, keep your hands off the nurses, and there are more goodies coming your way."

Andy leaned back on his bed, getting more comfortable. "I'm behaving perfectly. I haven't so much as looked at the nurses, and I only intend to be laying hands on her."

"Oh. Ew!" Isabelle's face screwed up. "Really! You went there. Rusty was right, you are all kinds of wrong. That one is going to stay with me a while."

"What's that?" Nicole edged into the room around her. She was bringing lunch for her father, after spending a leisurely morning and early afternoon with her husband and stepsons. She held up a brown paper bag for him. "I stopped at the deli you like."

"Your dad laying hands on my mom," Isabelle told her. "He's being so bad."

"Dad." Nicole sighed at him, but there was amusement in her gaze. "I thought I told you to behave."

"What?" He held his hands up. "The mini-Darth started it."

Nicole rolled her eyes at him, albeit playing along. "When they're back on their feet, we should get together," she told Isabelle. "All of us. We've only seen each other in passing, and if we're going to keep them out of trouble…"

"You are so right." Isabelle reached into her bag for notepad. She quickly jotted down her cell number and tore it off for Nicole. "You should call me. We should definitely talk. Oh, and I'd love to see your boys dance while I'm here. Mom tells me that they're very good."

"Really?" Nicole's eyes lit up immediately. "I'd like that so much, and I know they would to. Your mom told them all about your dancing, and they'd be so excited to meet a real ballerina."

"I'm excited to meet them. I haven't decided when I'm going back to New York yet, we're between shows right now, and I don't usually dance during the summer season. Call me, we'll set something up." She wriggled her fingers at Andy. "Bye. I'll let mom know I left you with a sitter," she teased.

Andy had his phone in his hand. "Uh huh. Sure. You do that." He was already texting Sharon. _Our girls are bonding. We are seriously screwed_.

His phone chirped with a response a moment later, but Isabelle was already gone. _No, we__'__re outnumbered. It__'__s far more terrifying than simply being screwed. _

"No kidding," Andy muttered at his phone. He sat up and put it aside, turning his attention solely on Nicole. "You are an angel," he told her, reaching for the bag she held out for him. "Hey, try one of these," he nudged the brownie container at her. "Sharon made them."

"Should she be baking?" Nicole lifted the container and took one.

"What Sharon _should_ be doing, and what she's _going_ to do, aren't always the same thing." Andy opened the bag and took out the salad and veggie wrap his daughter had brought him. "But I'm not going to complain when it involves her baking."

"I wouldn't either," Nicole hummed in appreciation. "Dad, this is amazing. While I still think you both need a sitter, this is so good. You have to keep this one."

"Yeah?" He studied her from the corner of his eye. If she knew about her mother showing up the day before to give Sharon grief, she was doing a good job of concealing it. Although, knowing Joanna as he did, he wouldn't be at all surprised that she kept it from Nicole. His daughter liked Sharon, and that was the sticking point for his ex-wife. Andy didn't really want to think about it, however, and split his attention between his food and his daughter instead. "So if I was, say, thinking about getting married again… that would be okay?"

Nicole broke another piece of brownie off and considered the meaning behind his question. Her dad could misdirect with the best of them. "Dad, if I said no, what would you do? Honestly."

He frowned. Anxiety churned in his gut. "I'd hope that you'd change your mind, but… hell, Nic. I'd marry her anyway and see if we could work it out afterward."

"Okay then." She smiled at him. "That's all I needed to know. Dad, it's not like this is one of your bimbos. I like her, the boys like her… Are you? Thinking about it, I mean."

"It's been discussed," he admitted with a relieved smile. "Nothing definite has been planned." Andy paused. "Hey Nic, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, but I should get her a ring anyway, right?"

"Oh god." She laughed at him. "Yes, you should get her a ring. Dad, you really do need a sitter," she said fondly.

"Hey, I'm old, it's been a long time since I had to worry about this kind of thing." Andy shook his head. "Stop making fun of your old man and help him out."

"You want me to help you out?" Nicole stood up and strode to the bed. She held her hand out. "Wallet."

His eyes narrowed. "The last time I handed you my wallet, you were sixteen. You bought a pair of two hundred dollar shoes instead of school clothes. I'm not sure I should trust you," he teased.

Nicole rolled her eyes at him and wiggled her fingers. "Hand it over old man."

Andy sighed. He reached over and keyed a combination into the safe, inlaid in the table beside his bed. He took his wallet out and handed it to her. "Am I going to regret this?"

"Probably." Nicole grinned as she flipped through it until she found his American Express. She took the credit card and gave the wallet back to him. "Most definitely, but I am saving you from yourself, so you are going to thank me in the end." Nicole slid the credit card into her purse.

"Just, go easy, okay. I just paid that off." Andy tossed the wallet back in the safe and leaned back. "Kids today."

Nicole laughed. "You'll live. Trust me."

"The last time a woman told me to trust her, while she had a credit card with my name on it, your mother bought fur." He shook his head. "Speaking of…"

"I'm not going to tell her." Nicole sat down in the chair Isabelle had vacated. "Oh no, I want absolutely _no_ part of that conversation. I'll let Jake tell her." Her brows bobbed playfully. "He is mommy's little boy, after all. I'll tell Jake, he'll tell mom, you'll ignore her calls. Life goes on."

"You're a good girl, Nic." Andy dug into his salad again.

"I know," she chirped and took out her phone. "Hey dad, there's a Tiffany's a few blocks from here."

Andy groaned. "Oh hell…"


	12. Chapter 12

Unconditionally - Chapter 12

by Kadi

Rated M

"_We__'__re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. _

_Only through our love and friendship can we _

_create the illusion for the moment that we__'__re not alone.__" _

— _Orson Welles_

Nicole had followed through on her promise to _help_ her father, and a suitably elegant, yet conservative ring was picked out and purchased. Andy had to admit, he would never have picked the simple platinum band and its single, radiant cut solitaire. It suited Sharon far better than anything he could have visualized, and he was not surprised to learn later that Isabelle had helped her to pick it out.

Only after a few days, the girls were fast friends, and thick as thieves. Andy was terrified to think what they might be plotting.

On Tuesday, he was released from the hospital. Sharon had been by to see him Monday, as she promised, while following up with her neurologist. The concussion was healing nicely, and she would have to follow up again the next week, but was in otherwise good health. When Andy was released, he called Nicole. His daughter helped him pack his things at the hospital, and then drove him to Sharon's condo. He did not warn her that he was coming.

Isabelle opened the door for them. Although delighted to see Andy, she held a finger to her lips as he stepped into the apartment. "Napping. She finally broke down and took something for the leg, she overdid it a little yesterday." Her mother had wanted to run some much needed errands after leaving the hospital.

Nicole carried her father's bag into the apartment and set it on a chair. "I won't stay then. Dad, you should get some rest too. I'll see you in a couple of days." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, angel." He gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm sure Isabelle will let you know how she likes it."

"You betcha." Isabelle smiled. "I'll call you," she told the other girl.

"You better. I want details." She waved before stepping out of the apartment again.

Isabelle watched her go and turned to Andy. "Can I get you anything?"

"Nah." He was already headed to the hall. "I'm good."

"Sure?" She smiled wickedly. "Tea? Something to eat?"

"Isabelle," He cast a long look at her. "You'll want to knock first."

"Oh, _really_!" She turned away quickly, with all the disgust of a child reminded that parents were human with human needs, too. "You are a bad, bad man." Isabelle flopped down in front of the television.

"Yes. I know." He smirked and made his way, slowly, down the hall. His body was still sore in a lot of places, most noticeably the incision site where the internal bleeding had been corrected. When he reached the master bedroom, he eased the door open. Sharon was laying on her back, her injured leg propped on a pillow. One arm was draped across her stomach, while the other was curled toward her face, which was turned to the side. Andy walked quietly into the room and rounded the bed to what had become _his_ side. He toed out of his shoes and then sank carefully onto the mattress. He didn't want to wake her, but his body was still very stiff.

Once he had himself arranged, he pulled one of the extra pillows and hugged it to his middle for support as he rolled onto his side. He rested his head in his hand and watched her for a moment. She was peaceful, relaxed. In sleep, the years always fell away. He reached out and trailed a finger along the curve of her cheek, then followed it's path with his lips. Andy kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, and finally her closed lids.

Her eyes fluttered before opening. A sleepy smile curved her lips. "Hi."

"Hi." His hand slid down her arm, to her stomach, where their fingers laced together. "Feel like some company?"

"Hmm." She hummed in response. Her eyes, heavy from the medication, were closing again. "Always." Sharon forced them open and blinked at him. "You're home?"

It was just a slip of the tongue, but it made Andy smile. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her upturned mouth. "I'm home," he murmured.

"Good." She tugged him closer and let her eyes close again.

Andy kissed her shoulder before settling beside her. He sighed, happily, when his body relaxed against the mattress. After almost an entire week in the hospital, his body was exhausted, and ached as much from sleeping on the thin hospital mattress as it did from the accident. Although he hadn't felt sleepy when he laid down, he found himself drifting in a light slumber just moments after closing his eyes. He was asleep before he even realized it.

It was with some surprise that Sharon awoke, a while later, laying next to her sweats and t-shirt clad lover. Once the surprise wore off, she had a vague memory of his having arrived. She shifted onto her side next to him and wriggled closer. The movement caused his arm to fall alway from her, and that had him waking. She hummed, a full wave of contentment washing over her at the sight of those dark eyes, and the emotions she saw shift through them when he remembered where he was. It was bafflement, and then the clarity. Their brown depths immediately registered warmth, and it lit the gold flecks in his dark irises like small embers, burning brightly. There was joy, and it was joined quickly by another emotion, much deeper. Andy's expressive gaze was the reason she never had to question his feeling for her, it was always there, even back in the days when he tried to hide it, Sharon had known. The words were nice, it always sent a thrill through her, but nothing could compare to the way she just _knew, _every time he looked at her, that she was loved. His lips curved toward a smile, and she couldn't resist leaning forward and touching them with her own.

"Missed you," she whispered. It wasn't only the separation of miles between the condo and the hospital, or between his room and hers prior to being released. It was the separation of _them_, and the quiet comfort of just being together.

"Hm." It was a deep, rumbling sound of contentment that filled the quiet room. His hand lifted to sweep the hair away from her face. His thumb caressed the curve of her cheek, then as his fingers moved deeply into her hair, it traced the line of her neck. "Ditto," he said, in a voice that was still thick with sleep. This had been missing during the long week of their combined recuperations. It was the simple pleasure of having the woman he loved where he could hold her, without interruptions, or prying eyes, and without the need to worry about the thoughts and feelings of others. Just the two of them, with nothing else in the world that mattered.

These walls were a haven. Outside, there was the children, the team, the job and any number of other responsibilities and interruptions. Once they left the sanctuary of the bedroom, they were less free to just be Andy and Sharon, two people who, in light of extraordinary odds had found something precious, something which gave them both peace and joy, and strength. Outside, she was mom, she was The Captain, she was Darth Raydor and God help those who stood in her way.

He could herald Sharon for the way his relationship with his daughter had grown and improved, but she had done little more than stand at his back and make him believe he was capable of doing it on his own. He had. But her contribution was far more encompassing than she could know. She couldn't bridge the gap between her own children and their father, but she had provided the assistance for his, with Nicole at least. If Andy had to pick out one moment, the single point in time when he had fallen in love with her, it was his daughter's wedding. He was dancing with his girl, in complete awe of the woman she had become, and he had glanced over to spot Sharon. She was watching them, warmth in her gaze, eyes suspiciously bright. That was it. That was his moment. Her happiness at _his_ happiness, that had done it. He was completely lost from then on out.

Andy was lost every time he looked at her. She took his breath away. Even laying here, sleep mussed, and no makeup to speak of, he was completely undone by her. His fingers traced the outline of her ear, combed through her hair. He leaned forward, ignoring the pull of his injured middle, and trailed his lips along her jaw to her mouth. It was a long, slow kiss. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth. He was committing the taste of her back to memory, but it only ignited the memory of a fire, embers that both their bodies were simply too tired and injured to stoke higher.

Her fingers in his hair drew a rumbling sound from deep within him. She hummed quietly in response and pushed her lips across his cheek. The pillow was still between them, but she pressed close enough to nuzzle against his neck. It drew a sigh from him, and his hand slipped down her side, to her hip. They lay again, facing each other, faces just scant inches apart. Their eyes conveyed what their bodies could not.

All too soon the moment ended. Sharon rolled away from him, out of the bed. His eyes trailed her careful, stiff movements toward the attached bathroom. When she returned a moment later, he had managed to shift onto his back. He was contemplating the effort it would take to get out of the bed when he felt her hand against his arm. Andy looked into her concerned gaze and smiled. He took her hand and let her steady him while he wrapped his other arm tightly around his middle and let the pillow support him as he rose to sit on the side of the bed. The low groan was all pain, and he sighed a bit despondently at the way his body ached.

"A shower will help," she promised. Her hands stroked his hair, his shoulders, and what she could reach of his upper back. When Andy's arms looped lazily around her hips, and his face pressed against her stomach, she smiled down at him. She held him there, cradled against her, for a few moments. When he reached for her hands, she limped a step back and held them while he pushed to his feet. The paleness of his face worried her, but he simply dropped a kiss onto her lips.

"Join me?" Their was mischief in his gaze. "I may need help. I'm old, feeble even."

"What you are is trouble." Sharon limped toward the dresser, where she retrieved spare things he kept at her apartment. "But I will admit that you do need help," she teased.

"Hey, I've only just returned from a very trying ordeal. Nurse Derek wasn't so gentle with the sponge baths." He watched her make her way toward the bathroom with his fresh pajamas. When she moved her robe from the door to the hook hanging near the shower, he grinned widely.

"Yes, poor Andy." She clucked her tongue at him. "We'll see if I can do any better." She stepped out of the bathroom for a moment, allowing him privacy. When the door opened again, Sharon joined him.

It took the two of them several minutes, some groaning and some laughing to get their injured bodies undressed. It was possible, at the very least, to laugh about it. Once they were in the shower, Andy braced his hands against the tiled wall and sighed, while the steaming spray flowed over his back. She was right, the muscles were already loosening.

They were both a mottled patchwork of bruises and healing cuts. Sharon still had a line diagonally across her chest, from the seatbelt, although it was fading to yellow now. Her legs were bruised, where they had been pinned beneath the dash, and of course there was the jagged gash in her right thigh that had been surgically repaired and stitched together. Andy turned away from the wall to curl an arm around her. His hand slipped down her side, to skirt the edge of that awful wound. He dropped his face to her shoulder, lips gentle.

Taking stock, it was something they both did. Her hands started at his shoulders. There were bruises along his arms, and covering his ribs. It was just lucky that nothing there had been broken. Then there was the line marring the left side of his torso, just below his chest, where thankfully the damage had not been irreparable. Sharon's thumb traced the edge of the healing incision. Her other hand she lifted to cup the back of his head where it rested against her. Her own arm moved around him, and they stood beneath the cascading spray, still and silent. There were tears leaking from beneath her lids, and it was not until she sniffled quietly that his head rose.

She was so very much like Rusty, in that she did not cry in front of people, and he could count only one other time she had allowed him to see her tears streaming her face. She held her grief in silence, always needing to be strong for others. They had come a long way in these few months together. When his hands cupped her face, thumbs sweeping away the moisture, she shook her head. She just had to feel it, and it was mostly relief that had her trembling in front of him. When his arms wrapped around her, she burrowed in to the all encompassing embrace, and tucked her face against his neck.

Life was so fleeting. They saw that every day. It could end in the blink of an eye, when least expected. They had come only too close. "Hounds of hell couldn't keep me away," he rumbled against her hair.

It was so ridiculous, especially when they were more familiar with the stark realities of life than anyone. Yet there it was, and it made her smile. She lifted her head and kissed him, so desperately that he pressed her back against the tiled wall and they had to lean there while they caught their breath. But it was Andy holding her, Andy's hands sliding up and down her sides. Andy's lips moving from her mouth to her neck. Ridiculous, silly, and worrisome Andy. The man who could move from mildly irritated to bouts of temper in a matter of moments, he who hatched insane plots for the sake of his partner's pride, and was known to cut corners or skirt the rules. Andy, who was funny and loving, and could drive her to the brink of madness until she didn't know if she wanted to shoot him or kiss him. The man who could be so vulnerable, but give her such strength. The thought of losing him filled her with such despair she almost couldn't breathe, yet, the hounds of hell could not keep him away. It was so utterly unrealistic, but she was going to hold him to that anyway.

Afterward, while Sharon sat at her dressing table, Andy watched from the edge of the bed. She was smoothing her hair into soft waves with her brush and blow dryer. He had made his way out to retrieve his bag, moving only slightly easier now that the shower had melted away the stiffness in his joints and muscles. She was wearing a pair of running pants and a tank top, but it might as well have been one of her dresses for all that she still looked amazing. Or perhaps he was biased. He didn't care.

Andy was silent and patient until the dryer turned off, and she combed her fingers through her hair, fluffing it. It was the tell-tale sign that she was finished. His eyes tracked her movements when she carried the blow dryer back to the bathroom. When she returned, he looped a hand around her wrist and drew her toward him. He pulled her to stand between his legs and lay his hands against her hips. Her back arched, just so, and his lips brushed the flat expanse of stomach before he tipped his head back and gazed up at her. After a moment, he took her wrists, and slipped his hands down to curl around hers. Andy studied her hands for a moment, so small. Delicate. From the tip of his pinky, he took the ring he placed there while waiting for her to finish dressing. The diamond glittered in the lights over head as he slid it onto her finger. At her indrawn breath, he looked up again. "Our daughters were indeed plotting," he said quietly. "Do we want to disappoint them?"

The corners of her mouth twitched. Her eyes sparkled. While he continued to hold her left, she lay her other hand against his shoulder. "No," she whispered, "we don't want that."

"Marry me."

This time it wasn't the morphine which curved her lips toward a smile. She cupped his cheek and bent, kissing him softly. A gentle caress of her lips, with a sweet, and softly spoken, "Yes."

His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her into a more significant kiss. He would have liked to say more, but the knock on the door sounded at the same time it opened.

"Sharon, we're ordering dinner. We were thinking Ital—oh, come _on_!" Rusty slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned, loudly. "Isabelle!" He turned, shouting in response to the laughter they could hear echoing in the other room.

"Oops," she sing-songed. "Forgot!"

"Really!" Rusty abandoned his mission for food and went after his foster sister. "You couldn't mention a simple, hey Andy's home, guard your eyes. I'm impressionable here, I can still be scarred. What kind of sister are you?"

Sharon sighed. The door was open. She lifted her head and gazed at Andy. The sanctuary had been breached, for the time being at least. It was time to return to the world. She shook her hair back and straightened, already _Mom_ was making her appearance. "Guys, keep it down," she called after them. "There's no reason to disturb the entire floor."

Andy shook his head as she retreated, but there was a grin playing at his lips. When she held her hand out, he took it, and let her draw him up. He curled an arm around her as they walked toward the commotion in the living room.

Outside she was Mom, the Captain, and Darth Raydor. He watched her move away to settle her children, remind them they were meant to be adults. Andy grinned, contentment settled through him. She was his.

_~FIN_


End file.
